


it ends with us - various!haikyuu x reader

by the_only_iris



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Depression, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Mental Health Issues, Mutual Pining, Other, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 52,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24419029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_only_iris/pseuds/the_only_iris
Summary: different seasons, different boys — all loving you, all the same.time comes between some, and some have none of the right words, but all of the angst — of pining, loss, and deliberate love, here is how they win you over, time and time again.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Reader, Azumane Asahi/Reader, Bokuto Koutarou/Reader, Hinata Shouyou/Reader, Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader, Kageyama Tobio/Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader, Miya Atsumu/Reader, Miya Osamu/Reader, Nishinoya Yuu/Reader, Oikawa Tooru/Reader, Sawamura Daichi/Reader, Sugawara Koushi/Reader, Tsukishima Kei/Reader, Ushijima Wakatoshi/Reader
Comments: 57
Kudos: 375





	1. chasing lights - tsukishima kei

There wasn't a lot of things Tsukishima Kei regretted in his life. 

Maybe, he sometimes regretted the repressed anger he sometimes showed towards his brother, and sometimes he regretted snapping at his friends (or Tadashi, because let’s face it, he doesn’t easily consider a lot of people his friends). However, one of the biggest things Tsukishima Kei regretted just before entering high school was rejecting your confession.

It had been an entire semester post your final year at middle school. You were close friends with Tadashi, and since it had been a whole year being friends with him, you were introduced to his rather cold and standoffish friend, Kei, in your second year of middle school. You immediately took a liking to this boy, who seemed a challenge in your eyes, not backing down with how unapologetically original he seemed to be. Tsukishima Kei was one of those people you wouldn’t worry about lying to you, because he just didn’t do that sort of thing. 

But, seems like you misstepped when your confession reached the hard end of the stick. Your eyes were wide as Tsukishima clicked his tongue and called it almost moronic to have feelings for someone who doesn’t feel the same. He didn’t explicitly say he didn’t like you back, but ridiculed the entire ordeal of it. 

_“I can’t believe… No, as a matter of fact, I can believe that you’d say something like this, Tsukki.”_

Your words haunt him till date. 

He was now in High School, and as fate would allow it (or punish him, for that matter), you were there too. Tadashi never spoke a word in edgewise at how ruined your relationship was with Tsukishima, but left matters to how they should be. 

The fact of the matter was this and it was fairly simple: Tsukishima Kei was borderline obsessed with you. 

It might have had to do with how simple you were yet how elegantly you carried that simplicity. You were openly friendly where he was not, ready to smile, accept a challenge, soft and gentle yet bold and confident in so many ways that it drove him _insane_ when he realized that just thinking of you is enough to pass the time. You were on his mind when he listened to music, or went on walks and Tsukishima would be lying if he didn’t have at least four playlists dedicated to you, each assorted according to the season. 

He even remembered the scent of your hair—that gloriously sweet fig and honey essence from your shampoo. He had no idea what it was, but he remembered calling you out on it. He remembered being so accurate that you called him a creep. He was beaming with pride on the inside, but you would never know. 

Now, one can wonder why Tsukishima turned you down even though he felt this way about you. 

He wondered that and regretted that same detail over and over again. He watched you sometimes, heading to the library with your friends, eating lunch with them, rushing to the vending machine during breaks, reading a book and yawning thinking no one else was looking, almost drifting off to sleep in class—every little detail that you believed no one noticed, Tsukishima did, and god, you broke his heart without even trying.

In many bittersweet ways, he knew he didn’t deserve you. You were beautiful; and it wasn’t just superficial beauty, you were so kind, you were a wonder to both Tadashi and himself—having entered their lives randomly. He would be forever grateful to Tadashi for introducing him to you, but such words couldn’t be spoken because you were someone who needed to face a light brighter than him. 

But it was until high school did he realize that there was one such light. And it scared him to no end that maybe, just maybe, you’d find that burning brighter instead.

*****

You would be lying if you said you were over Tsukishima Kei, the boy that broke your heart so devastatingly back in middle school. You still spoke to Tadashi and often asked him about the blond boy, but that was perhaps all you were allowed to ask—you couldn’t ask for more. 

Tadashi could see how much it hurt you to even talk about Kei, but you did, you endured because every inch of you genuinely cared for him—you saw how troubled he was over a few things that he thought you didn’t know; you saw how much thought he put into practice, and you knew how much it shattered him to learn the truth of his brother. Tadashi offered to lend you a comforting shoulder to cry on, but you were not the sort to spill your emotions for self-gratification. You carried them because you did not regret them, and that was perhaps the biggest difference between you and Tsukishima. 

You were lost in thought one day when you bumped into Kei in the corridor. You gasped before letting out a meek sounding apology, battling within yourself over whether you make small talk or not. _He probably hates small talk_ , you told yourself before scooting over and walking past him, not noticing how he was as still as a rock just where he stood. Looking down at your feet, you felt tears well up in your eyes from the pent-up frustration over how ruined things were with your crush and your old friend (who happened to be the same person), but a _thud_ sound caught your ear.

You paused before turning to your right and noticing a small boy, your age perhaps but considerably short compared to a few boys you knew, bouncing a ball against the wall repeatedly. He had bright orange hair and his eyes were dead fixed at the ball, conviction screaming from his fingers and his aura, this boy wasn’t going to be distracted even if a meteor was crashing to the earth. Your lips parted a bit, fascinated at how he kept going—wasn’t it a break right now? What was he even trying to do? Isn’t volleyball a team game? What’s he doing practicing on his own? 

_Does Tsukki know him—_

You snapped out of your thoughts before rushing to class, unaware that Tsukishima had witnessed this entire ordeal. He would never admit it in a million years but his heart shattered at the sight of your mesmerised gaze at Hinata, the light he was so scared of losing you to. And now—it was actually happening right before his eyes.

He clicked his tongue and walked to class. 

The next day, you spotted the orange haired kid again, doing the same thing. You heard from Tadashi that your team had moved on to the Spring Tournament, something you were a tad bit ashamed you didn’t know on your own, but you tended to stray away from all things Volleyball because of a certain someone. You noticed that this orange kid seemed a lot more exhausted, causing you to blink and look down at what you were currently holding—vanilla flavored milk. Sighing, you walked over to the boy who wasn’t taking a break and stood right behind him.

“Excuse me—”

Screaming, he dropped the ball on his head, which went tumbling away, causing your eyes to widen with guilt for interrupting his flow. Turning to you, while rubbing the new sore spot on his head, his eyes widened and you noticed his face turned a dark shade of red. No girl had voluntarily approached him and spoken to him—his life was finally reaching a turning point!

You handed him the vanilla milk with a soft smile, “Here. You look tired.”

“A princess!” He screeched before you giggled at his response.

“I saw that you were practising yesterday too, on your own. I wondered why you keep doing this? You have a team to practise with, don’t you?”

He nodded before wondering whether to take the milk or not. You giggled one last time before forcing it on to his hands, recalling at last that you hadn’t introduced yourself.

“My name’s (l/n) (y/n), I’m in Yamaguchi’s class. We used to go to the same middle school.”

“H-Hinata S-Shoyo!” He stammered before blinking and tilting his head, “Yamaguchi-kun? That means…” His eyes narrowed, “You must know Tsukishima too then.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the mere mention of the blond’s name and you wondered yet again for how long that dinosaur loving boy would have your heart react the way it was. You hoped that your face didn’t show any discomfort, and you smiled softly before desperately wanting to change the subject.

“I gave you the milk to drink it, Hinata-kun.”

Shoyo let out a ‘ _gah_ ’ before drinking it—almost as if he were doing it for you—and in a minute looked at you again. 

“Why did you give this to me?”

You blinked, unsure of why yourself. There was something about Hinata that caught your eye, something that seemed… _ethereal_. Perhaps, it was because he was working on something he really loved, and he was doing it openly—unashamed of it, and how he contrasted the same love for the sport that Tsukishima seemed to have. Hinata was also shorter, much more cheerful, openly energetic and suddenly, your eyes widened.

You couldn’t be that shallow, right? 

Was your mind trying to compare Hinata to Tsukishima? Just so that you’d see that the difference was extreme? That you really weren’t missing out on anything? 

Hinata’s eyes shone like fire orbs while Tsukishima’s had a coldness to them that you thought you could penetrate with time. 

You could only smile at Hinata and say one thing, “You were shining too brightly.”

But deep in your heart, you knew what you were doing.

*

Tadashi and Tsukishima both witnessed your interaction with Hinata, but before Yamaguchi even could say a word, Tsukishima walked away. He didn’t want to get in between the both of you, but it was clearly only one person’s fault in this entire ordeal and whether it was cowardice or not, whether it was shame or something else, Kei was the one who needed to step up and take action. 

Tadashi could understand that sometimes, people wouldn’t know what to do. But, if Kei really wanted you to understand him better, which Tadashi knew he did, then he had to step up. 

Kei, on the other hand, was visibly seething. It wasn’t just the idea behind their names that bothered him, it was the contrasting personalities. It was how Kei knew deep down that you deserved someone who wasn’t so reserved, that you deserved someone who could unashamedly tell you what they think, instead of covering it up with layers and layers or rude comments or sarcasm. If this wasn’t cowardice, Kei didn’t understand what it could be. Hinata was bolder where Kei wasn’t and that was who he envisioned beside you. And even though Kei wanted to hold your hand and kiss you more than anything else, the truth was staring at him right in the eye.

At times he felt that he had almost rather not be in love with you, for it brought him no peace. What was the use of it, if it was only going to be painful?

And that was when he thought of it. He was going to tell you. He was going to tell you the next time fate decided to have your path cross his. He was going to blurt out everything that he thought of you, whether or not you’d accept his feelings, despite the shortcomings, despite the lack of conviction, despite not being Hinata. He was going to tell you he’s always been in love with you, as Tsukishima Kei, and see what you had to say.

Yet, fate didn’t see that happening any time soon. Weeks passed, and December was coming closer and closer. He was selected for a 5-day training camp, yet there was no sign of fate even attempting to pin you toward him. He knew this was merely an excuse; he knew that putting this on fate meant that he was, in a way, running away from it. He noticed that you were on a first name basis with Hinata and that angered him. He noticed how you’d wave at the orange haired munchkin every time you pass him by, and how you’d divert your eyes away from Kei’s whenever you even came close. 

Perhaps, what really drove him to the edge was one small incident. It was something Kei believed he was the only one allowed to know. 

“Your hair smells like… honey?”

Before you could say anything, Kei’s voice reached out louder than you’ve ever heard him be.

“(y/n)!” 

He wasn’t too far behind, and it was very, very unlike him to yell out your first name when he hasn’t even spoken to you properly in close to a year. Your eyes widen as your gaze lands on Tsukishima’s, Hinata was baffled as well but was quiet for his own reasons, and you could feel your insides shaking.

“Tsukishima-kun?” 

He hated it. He hated how he had suddenly fallen from being ‘Tsukki’ to a name that reminded him of how close you were with Hinata, no, Shoyo-kun instead.

“I need to talk to you.”

His words were convincing enough, and you quickly followed him. No one else paid any attention to the weird interaction, lunch breaks were fairly noisier than Tsukishima calling out your name by standing just five feet away from you.

“Tsukishima—”

When he decided you two were alone enough, he turned and looked down at you, a scowl plastered on his face. You knew that this was sometimes a default expression, but it’s been months and you didn’t want the boy you were so helplessly in love with to look at you like you were trash.

But then, something miraculous happened. His expression waned and you could see a hurt look sit on his features, his hand reached out to you, almost hesitant, and touched the tip of your fingers. He took a deep breath and you almost _smelt_ it. 

The thought you had when you first met Shoyo. Of their names contrasting. Tsukishima didn’t have to say a word.

“I’m afraid…” He let out, gulping. “I’m afraid I can’t catch up.”

To what?

_Shoyo._

Oh.

You looked up at him and wondered if this was why. If this was why he had turned you down, if this was what was haunting him then was he really, really so hellbent on punishing himself as if no one else noticed?

“I think,” Your hands wound around the fingers close to you. “I like this light better.”

Tsukishima hated the way you always caught his breath the way you did. He hated how accurately placed your emotions were, he hated the way you felt, he hated how good your shampoo smelled and what he hated the most out of everything was how he desperately needed your affection. 

He craved it, all for himself. You were made for him, and that was how he saw it and as cheesy as these thoughts were, it was a balance he was yearning for and he saw it all in you.

“ _Tsukki_ ,” Ah, you were going to kill him one day. “Please, don’t push me away?”

A question. 

He sighed. He looked at your linked hands. Stepping forward, his lips ghosted over your forehead before placing a soft kiss there, feeling the back of his eyelids burn as he shut his eyes.

_Fig and honey._

“I don’t think that’s possible now.”


	2. it's not pathetic - kageyama tobio

Having a crush is such a strange phenomenon. 

Sometimes, people did odd things because it all began with a crush. There were people who built fantastic tombs for the ones they loved, tombs now remarked as some of the wonders of the world. There were those who would kill for the ones they loved because love meant sacrifice and some bravely embraced it if it meant seeing their loved ones happy.

Despite a great many things that told you that you shouldn’t and must definitely not fall in love with Kageyama Tobio, you went ahead and fell head over heels for him during your middle school years. 

Your brother hated him, your friends despised him—especially since they were all in the Volleyball team with him, and you were there when your friends stood up against Kageyama and had him benched.

You, Oikawa (y/n), were not supposed to fall for Kageyama Tobio.

But, now that you had and it meant parting ways in high school because your darling brother was a great third year at Aobajosei. Hajime-nii even told you to not think twice. You weren’t an athlete like them, you were more inclined toward academics because that’s what you were good at. 

And even though sometimes you adored Iwaizumi-nii more than your idiot show-off of a brother, you did the grandest of all idiot things and followed your heart to Karasuno.

This was perhaps where your idiocy started to punish you. 

You couldn’t really name a reason why you declared going to Karasuno. Sure, Kageyama was the main reason—which sounded stupid to even you, but it wasn’t as if you were regretting it. You told your parents you didn’t want to be dubbed ‘Oikawa’s sister’ again, which was what had happened throughout your middle school years; your parents were supportive of your desire for independence, but little did they know, you were actually doing this to be closer to a boy you rarely ever spoke to. 

Kageyama often times avoided you because you were Toru’s little sister and you desperately wanted to change that. It wasn’t as if Toru was overprotective, sometimes, he barely noticed you around (which was definitely a good thing), but it was Kageyama we were talking about here and there was no way in hell Oikawa would let that dark-haired tsundere anywhere near you.

You had been seated next to Kageyama in your second year of middle school. For an entire semester, the two of you shared little conversations, you’d make fun of some of the teachers, catch him drifting off to sleep during boring lectures, you’d help him with English and it had even gotten to a point where he’d personally ask you to help him out with something—you adored every little exchange with this awkward boy, and you enjoyed breaking down his walls, each made sense to you, each and every interaction had you falling deeper and deeper into this pit you had dug for yourself because Kageyama wasn’t even trying to be cool.

But all semesters come to an end and so did that beautiful, glorious one. Kageyama was seated at the far end and you were placed beside Kunimi and Kindaichi, your good friends. Kunimi knew of the affections you shared for the dark-haired setter but in no way could see why someone like you could even like someone like Kageyama. 

You didn’t know either, really. Perhaps, it was his dedication. Maybe, it was the way he attacked what he wanted and made sure it stuck to him. In many ways, it was also his talent and how he didn’t stick to just leaving it to his talent. He honed his skills like a diamond sculptor, modeling the rock in a way that was fit only for the hardest rock in the world. Kageyama was relentless and it was this relentlessness embodied in an awkward and down-to-earth body did you fall for.

But, the thing about unrequited love was simple. There was a hidden joy to it because you didn’t know how it ended. Your mind could play countless scenarios on how it could end but none of those scenarios were real. It was like the time before the exam result, on an exam you knew you did badly, but the result hadn’t arrived yet so you were safe.

“Oikawa.” 

Your heart picked up pace as your eyes widened at the familiar voice. You turned to your left and spotted Kageyama and his classmate, Hinata, staring at you. You were by the vending machine, buying a soda.

“Kageyama.” You replied before Hinata threw a fit.

“O-OIKAWA? You mean…. t-the g-grand king—”

“If you mean my dumbass of a brother, then yes.” You folded your arms with a lazy grin, causing Kageyama to grin back. He always adored your spunk, especially when it came to your brother. 

“We were in the same middle school.” Kageyama said, almost introducing you to him.

Your heart could break right now at how happy you seemed. Kageyama was noticing you, and this strange event was making you dizzy. Hinata nodded before tilting his head.

“But…” Ah, here comes the question. “Why are you in Karasuno and not in Aobajosei?”

You pursed your lips before your eyes shifted to the dark-haired setter. He looked confident for a second before his eyes narrowed, turning to you for an answer. You knew he didn’t know why either, you knew Kageyama had no idea that you followed him to Karasuno. What an idiotic thing to do. There was no way he’d be impressed by something so idiotic.

“I didn’t want to be labeled after Toru-nii. It got annoying in middle school.” You said, rubbing the back of your neck.

If this excuse worked with your parents, it’d work with anyone. Hinata’s eyes widened and you could see some weird admiration settle in Kageyama’s blue orbs, but your heart fell to the ground. 

“How’s practice?” You asked Kageyama, who merely nodded.

“It was nice seeing you again.” 

A goodbye. Masked in a greeting. You were seriously doomed. You bit your lower lip before nodding and making way for both of them to walk past you to the vending machine. This interaction lasted several seconds. You were only hoping when the next few seconds of your interaction with Kageyama would come.

*

“Oikawa-chan, please go out with me!” You sighed.

Gulping once, you tried to subdue the growing nausea at the back of your throat before breathing heavily a few times and rejecting the boy in front of you. You hated doing this. He was from Kageyama’s class, and it was perhaps the fourth boy who had asked you out this semester. You secretly hoped it was Kageyama who called you out next time, but you knew deep in your heart that if any confessing was going to happen then it had to be from you.

And that left you so confused. Confused because you didn’t know if you had to confess or if confessing could lead to anywhere. While your heart hoped for Kageyama to give you a chance, you knew how things worked in his mind. He didn’t have time for relationships or crushes, he was focused on one thing and one thing only—volleyball, and you’d be damned if you even tried to take his mind off of what he loved.

You were confused half the time, and it left you tired. It was confusing because you were trying to convince your heart and spirit of something your mind knows is a lie. 

However, the boy you turned down entered his class and his friends exclaimed out loud, catching Hinata’s attention.

“She turned you down, huh?”

“Damn, that Oikawa sure is hard to get.”

Hinata blinked a couple of times before turning to Kageyama and violently grabbing the boy’s attention. Kageyama scowled at him before blinking and overhearing the words himself.

“One of these days, Oikawa’s gonna wish she said yes to me.”

Kageyama didn’t know what to do with this information. He turned to Hinata, whose eyes were glowing brightly.

“Why don’t you go ask her if she’s okay? I’m sure this must be hard for her!”

“Why will it be hard? She’s the one who said no.”

Hinata grumbled before rubbing his hands all over his head. Kageyama is definitely the sort of guy who’d without a second thought decline a chance to speak to a cute girl. If it was Hinata, no one would even have to tell him to do something like this—

“Fine,” Kageyama stood up, thinking of going to the vending machine on the way, “I’ll go speak to her.”

Hinata didn’t know why he suddenly felt excited for Kageyama, despite knowing that the dark-haired setter wouldn’t really know how to execute this said conversation. He nodded as Kageyama headed out of the classroom in search of you, wondering what could happen. Kageyama spotted you, besides the vending machine, sitting on the bench, drinking a soda. A soft smile fell on his lips when he saw you where exactly where he was headed, meaning he didn’t have to take any unnecessary detours.

He’d always liked you, more than your brother. Of course, he respected your brother for the amazing player that he was, but personality-wise, he was certain that he preferred having you around. He remembered how kind you were and how funny you were—especially when making fun of the English teacher together back in that one semester you were seated beside him. You even helped him with his homework, which he was grateful for. His pace slowed when he thought of how your eyes would light up whenever he’d enter class, and to what lengths you’d sometimes go to just greet him. And now… 

…now, you were in Karasuno, despite your brother being somewhere else.

“Oikawa,” Kageyama addressed you, shocking you out of your stupor. You weren’t expecting to see him right then, “Are you okay?”

Kageyama wasn’t sure if the thoughts swirling in his head made any sense, but unlike what several people berated him as, he was not blind or oblivious to something so blatantly obvious. You were looking up at him with surprise, red dusted across your cheeks at the mere sight of him. His stomach was turning inside and out, but he somehow, anyhow, had to get this out of you.

“I’m fine, why?”

“Some idiot from my class was complaining about how you’d turned him down.”

You scoffed before looking away, “He’s an idiot, all right.”

Kageyama was quiet. He wasn’t oblivious, but he was terrible at conversation. The boy only had a few skills.

“Why did you come to Karasuno, Oikawa?”

He noticed how you paused. Funny, he thought, he’d never paid this much attention to you before. It surprised him because he’d always seen you, he’d always notice if you were in the room but he never once thought he’d ever actually paid attention to you. If he had, then it would have all made sense a long, long time ago. 

A long, long time ago… 

Kageyama’s eyes widened just as his heart constricted. 

“You don’t really want to know, Kageyama.”

He did. He did want to know. No, actually, he knew it—he just wanted to confirm it.

“Don’t I get a say in this?”

You frowned at your feet before looking up at him. So, this is it, you thought before sighing.

“I came here for you, Kageyama. I came here because… Because I’m in love with you. I always have been.”

There was an ocean of silence between you and Kageyama just then and you felt yourself drown. You gulped before getting up, tears welling up in your eyes at your lack of an answer. 

“I don’t need you to tell me how pathetic that is,” Kageyama’s eyes widened at your words, “I don’t need you to tell me that you don’t have time for anything like this. I planned on never telling you, really. I planned on keeping this to myself but it turns out you’re really not that much of a dunce like my brother keeps saying.”

Kageyama desperately wanted you to meet his gaze, but you weren’t looking at him. 

“(y/n)—”

“I won’t bother you, don’t worry. I’ll stay out of your way.”

It was the last time he’d see you that semester.

*

When Toru saw you rush into your room that evening, he knew instantly that something was wrong. But, whenever you were in a mood, it was best when he didn’t approach you because you’d snap at him for saying the wrong thing and feel worse. You didn’t realize it when you did it, but it was rather easy for you to displace your anger at your brother from whatever it was that initially pissed you off.

However, Toru wasn’t alone right then. Iwaizumi was also there, but unlike Toru, Hajime had noticed you were crying. He turned to his best friend and sighed at how hesitant Oikawa was in approaching his own little sister.

“You’re an idiot of a brother,” Hajime said, before sighing and walking over to your room. 

“Go away, Toru-nii, I don’t want to—”

“It’s me, Hajime.” 

When his response was followed by silence, he knew you’d open the door. Hajime stood still for a few minutes before noticing Oikawa peek from a distance. Toru burned with jealousy that his sister chose Iwaizumi rather than himself but a part of his heart burned with joy at how his best friend and sister were getting along. 

When the door opened, Hajime let himself inside and closed the door behind him, knowing full well that Toru would eavesdrop with no shame. He noticed you sitting on the chair beside your study table, wiping your tears away vigorously. Hajime chuckled before sitting down on your bed, watching you with an amused expression. He knew only one thing can make a girl cry the way you were at the moment. He didn’t like it, but it’s natural.

“Who’s the guy?”

“Why aren’t you in practice?”

“It’s Monday. Now, who’s the guy?” 

You chuckled at how amused Iwaizumi sounded at the question. 

“Kageyama.”

Hajime’s eyes widened a bit but more so because he only wondered how Oikawa would not react to hearing this. His sister and Kageyama? This is a tale set in stone! Hajime wanted to desperately burst out laughing at Toru’s fate, but there you were, sitting down with a bitter smile on your face. Hajime’s heart broke at the mere sight.

“Did he… Did he hurt you—”

“He turned me down, haha.”

Now, Iwaizumi was confused. Turned you down? Was Kageyama blind? You were everything that Toru wasn’t. You had Toru’s passion but for studies and literature, and you were kind and gentle where Toru wasn’t. You were funny, smart and adventurous, and not to mention, really, really pretty. Hajime didn’t need to be into you to know that you were a catch, though, admitting this to himself felt strange. 

“(y/n), Tobio’s an idiot.”

“That he sure is. But, I went to Karasuno for him so who’s the bigger idiot?”

Hajime couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“(y/n), you’re barely 15 years old. To make such decisions over a boy, I’d say that this love that you feel for that idiot isn’t even real.” Iwaizumi was always a rational person, but he tried his best to be kind when he called you out on this.

You chuckled bitterly.

“Hajime-nii,” He loved it when you called him that, “It has to be real.”

“What?”

“It has to be real. What I feel for Kageyama. Because, if you could love someone, and keep loving them, without being loved back … then that love had to be real. It hurts too much to be anything else.” Your voice broke in the end, and Hajime stood up to ruffle your hair. 

The door opened and there was Toru. Hajime half expected the boy to make a scene—his sister loving his greatest enemy, but Toru’s eyes were ridden with a feeling of sorrow he had never seen on him before. The brown-haired setter walked toward his sister, nodding at his best friend who merely smiled before leaving the room. Toru easily picked you up before cradling you in his grip, firmly placing you on the bed before sitting beside you. You could smell your brother’s sweet-smelling shampoo (which he had stolen from you, you were sure), and you cried harder at how kind he was being.

Toru’s rough hands brushed your hair out of your face and he just sat there, in silence. As much as your brother annoyed the heck out of you, you would never change him for anyone else.

“Toru-nii…” 

Toru sighed. What could he say?

“It’ll get easier.” He said, speaking with experience. 

He wasn’t mad that his sister liked a guy he knows she was too good for, but there was nothing on this planet that Toru loved more than you. Volleyball? Yes, sure. But you would never, ever let him pick one over the other. You were his blood. And seeing you cry devastated him.

“Do you want me to talk to Tobio-chan? I’ll make him pay—”

“NO!”

*

After Karasuno’s defeat to Aobajosei around the end of that semester, Kageyama noticed the angry glares Oikawa and Iwaizumi were both giving him after the match. It was something even the rest of the team noticed but didn’t want to comment on. However, Hinata wasn’t as thoughtful.

“Why does the Grand King and that other scary dude staring at you like you killed someone?” Hinata’s eyes widened, “(y/n)-chan!” He whispered.

Tobio frowned harder. Of course, Oikawa knew. You were his sister. You must have told him and Iwaizumi and they were here to beat him up. But, you didn’t seem the type to do something so silly. But, then why were they staring at him like that?

“Tobio-chan~” 

Kageyama froze when he noticed Iwaizumi and Oikawa approach him and Hinata when they were about to leave.

“Oikawa-senpai,” Kageyama turned to Hajime, “Iwaizumi-senpai.”

Hajime sighed, grabbing Oikawa’s collar from the back.

“Good game, kid.” 

Oikawa definitely looked like he wanted to say something more, but Kageyama was confused. His heart was racing. Didn’t you send them to threaten him? Didn’t you tell them that he had broken your heart?

When the realization dawned on him, his own heart broke.

“Senpai,” Kageyama said, eyes widening, “(y/n)-san…” Oikawa blinked, “I haven’t seen her since… For a while.”

Hinata blinked at the setter’s sudden confession.

“We seemed to have a misunderstanding. I need to speak to her, can you… Can you—”

“If you want me to pass a message to my sister, then…” Oikawa made an ugly scowl, “Go tell her yourself, idiot!”

Kageyama could not believe that you were related to him.

Ever since you had confessed to him, ever since you had told him that you chose Karasuno for him, Kageyama’s been thrown for a toss. A part of him still felt like he was in midair, and only you could catch him. It was a strange thing, but he didn’t think he’d feel the need to see you so strongly. It was as if your confession had awoken his own feelings for you, and if this was a thing he wasn’t sure. He’d never been inclined toward anyone romantically, but then you came along, laughing and joking around—teaching him English and eyes glistening whenever he passed you by. The quiet waves, the way you stuck your tongue out when someone teased you, the way you’d stand up for yourself—gosh, you were honestly something else. He felt your absence like death—it was like missing teeth, you wouldn’t need a mirror to know that they were gone.

So, he was going to make the effort for you. It was going to be nothing compared to the effort you had made for him, but he was going to try. Because what was love if it wasn’t idiotic?

“Hinata,” The first time Kageyama addressed him without an insult, “I need (y/n)’s number.”

Hinata’s eyes twinkled. 

“I don’t have it, though!”

“Idiot.”

Hinata growled, “Yamaguchi might! She’s in the same class!”

Kageyama turned toward his team approaching them, spotted Yamaguchi and Tsukishima at a distance and his scowl reappeared. He let out a sigh. He was going to do this. He was going to do this for you.

“Yamaguchi,” Kageyama was fine till here. “I…” 

Yamaguchi blinked, while Tsukishima wondered what the fuck was going on. Turning to Hinata, who adorned a bright look in his eye, it looked like Kageyama was going to confess to Yamaguchi. Tsukishima could die laughing right then and there.

“Ka…Kageyama, do you… do you need something?”

“Oikawa (y/n),” Tsukishima blinked. “I need her number. She’s in your class. Do you—”

“Oh,” Tsukishima couldn’t hold back, “Does the King have a crush on someone?”

Kageyama was quiet. Yamaguchi didn’t think what Tsukishima was doing was necessary, but it was funny to see Kageyama get flustered over a girl.

“Sorry, I don’t have her number. But I think—”

“I do.” Tsukishima said, and Kageyama’s world turned upside down.

“Tsukishima,” His name slipped out of Kageyama’s mouth like bloody murder. “I need her—”

“I heard you, I heard you. But, what can I get out of this?” Tsukishima mocked, “Can I hear you say something embarrassing? That you love her?”

Kageyama stared directly into Tsukishima’s eyes. 

“I’ll gladly tell her I love her over the phone if you want to, but I think it’s better if I tell her in person.”

Yamaguchi, Tsukishima, and Hinata were now thrown for a toss. The blond knew right then that there was no point teasing Kageyama now. His feelings for you were something he clearly wasn’t ashamed of.

“Why do you have her number in the first place?”

“She’s class rep. We exchange notes from time to time.”

Of course, Tsukishima was smart too. That made complete sense. Once Kageyama got your number, it took him less than three seconds to make the call.

*

“Hello?”

“(y/n)?”

You were not used to hearing Kageyama calling you by your first name, but for some reason, you couldn’t stop picturing it now that he had.

“K-Kageyama? How do you—”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Don’t you have a game? With… With my brother’s team! What happened? Did you—”

“We lost.”

Your heart fell, but strangely, you didn’t feel too bad. “Kageyama, I’m so sorry—”

“(y/n),” He couldn’t believe how calm he felt right then, “I’m sorry.”

In an hour, you agreed to meet him outside your house. Oikawa and Hajime were nowhere around, and you hoped they wouldn’t barge in on whatever this conversation was going to be about. You stepped outside the gate and spotted Tobio in the distance. He was still wearing his sweats and jacket, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Kageyama!”

Tobio noticed you and his face heated up. It was the first time he was seeing you without your uniform. He approached you and instantly bowed as if to apologize.

But, what came out of his mouth was,

“I love you, (y/n)! I think I’ve always had feelings for you, but I didn’t realize until you told me!”

Your eyes widened at his words, you almost couldn’t believe it. And why the heck was be bowing?

“Stop bowing!” 

When Kageyama stood in front of you, you realized how tall he was. It was abnormal, but you were Toru Oikawa’s sister.

“Why did you… Why did you turn me down then?”

Kageyama blinked, “I didn’t. You ran off before I said anything.”

You couldn’t believe what was happening. A hand went to your cheek and you pinched as hard as you could, but a second later, Tobio’s hand rushed to yours and pulled it down.

“It’s not a dream…” His voice was soft, you never heard him whisper before.

While his hand was still in yours, you felt tears rush to your eyes. He stepped one step closer to you before smelling your hair. It reminded him of something but he couldn’t quite place his finger as to where it was from.

“It’s not pathetic,” He said, confusing you. You look up at his soft smile and how his eyes were fixed to your form, “You coming to Karasuno for me.”

You blushed when he made it sound like that.

“I’m so thankful that you did. It would have been tragic if I figured out I loved you and you were not near me.”

“Well, that’s how it was for me.” You said, pouting.

Kageyama nodded.

“I want to make up for all that time.”

Without another thought, you embraced him, his fingers still entwined in yours, as Kageyama slowly let go, only to wind his hands around your form. 

“I love you.” He whispered again.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

“Don’t push me.” 

“I love you, too,” you say this time. “So much.”

A second later, Tobio finally understood where he smelled your hair from.

“You smell like your brother.”

“Why do you know what my brother smells like, Kageyama?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kags is a cutie, know what i'm saying?


	3. loving in the rain - nishinoya yuu

It was when your eyes fell on the rain, did your mind travel back to him.

Everyone you had met in your life had hailed you a hopeless romantic—a hapless statement so easily attached to one who isn’t afraid to take risks. You were afraid of a great many things, but to put your heart on your sleeve? That was something you were not guilty about. Yes, you fell in love easily and you personally saw nothing wrong with that, because the world now grew so cold despite the growing temperatures because people were slowly losing the guts to take risks. 

And boy, had you fallen quite hard for someone indeed.

It had been four years since you graduated from high school. You were 24 years old now, teaching at Chidoriyama Middle School. Even the name had you traveling back to him on occasion, which was strange yet ethereal—considering how there was not one instance where you were not thinking of Nishinoya Yuu. But this wasn’t conscious, not at all. You hardly ever thought of him, really. He had worn a place for himself in some corner of your heart, like a sea shell, always boring against the rock. The making of the place was your pain. But now the shell was safely in the rock. It was lodged and ground no longer. 

On good days, the pining wasn’t too strong. You had moved on from the past, of course. You had fallen for others, but no one came close to making you feel what Noya made you feel. Noya had this effervescence, everything with him was exciting because he was. 

You gave credit to the throes of first love, but even that explanation never satisfied you. Four years it had been since your heart was broken by Nishinoya Yuu—who decided to travel the world because, gosh, that seemed so much like something Nishinoya Yuu would do. He wouldn’t back down against how vast the world was just because he was small and his eyes—those furious yet passionate orbs that carried fire with them everywhere he laid them—his eyes were too much for the world.

_Please don’t hate me._

How could you ever hate someone like him? The curse was that you’d love him forever, but some part of you didn’t mind. 

The last words he had said to you were ‘goodnight’; how strange it was. You remembered holding your tears back to your best potential, and you remembered his rock-hard face—his hair straight and unkempt, his eyes glued to your form, begging and searching for a sign that you were about to break. Why Noya wanted to see that was beyond you but maybe, he wanted to feel some pain before he left because noticing you keeping it all to yourself was going to hurt him only later.

You hate the word ‘goodnight’. You stopped saying it to people after that, you stopped saying it to your parents, to your then-boyfriend, to your pet dog, to anyone and anything. Goodnight reminded you of Noya leaving you, goodnight was the bittersweet recollection of Noya realizing his dreams but it was also the understanding that he could not have those dreams if he was with you.

There was nothing good about goodnight if it meant goodbye.

After Noya left, you had jumped into the wagon of trying to find words that could come close to describe what it was that you were feeling. It was on one cold, rainy night—and rain meant something else to you and Noya entirely—you had found the word ‘Saudade’, and your heart was full at that second. It was a Portuguese word and it meant a certain kind of longing for something so indefinite as to be indefinable. Love affairs, miseries of life, the way things were, people gone and dead, those who left and the ocean having tossed them on the shores of a different land—all things born of the soul that can only be felt.

The rain meant differently to you and Noya because that was how you had met each other. 

_You were walking back after a late day at the club. You were part of the chemistry club and you knew that it was going to rain that day. Yet, you wanted to stay back and finish what work had you left behind because being passionate meant something to you—it gave you the strength to be yourself and there was nothing wrong with wanting to identify what you were good at. You blinked up at how heavily it was pouring and let out a sigh. This wasn’t good._

_“Oh!”_

_Blinking, you turned around and spotted a boy a few feet away from you, his eyes were the first things you noticed. They were fire—blazing themselves into your soul and you felt your cheeks reddening. You were certain that he was a senior because you had heard that he was part of the Volleyball club._

_“Do you need an umbrella?” He asked, blushing himself, his left hand fiddling with the edge of the umbrella._

_On normal occasions, you don’t accept offers like these from boys you don’t know. But maybe, this was no normal occasion at all. You nodded, meekly, though no part of you was meek—and his eyes widened before a happy grin plastered itself on his features._

_“Senpai,” You said, shooting a rather sharp arrow right into his chest, mercilessly, “Thank you.”_

_“If… If it w-wasn’t raining, I’d b-buy you ice cream for being a senpai, you know?”_

_You pressed your lips together before having him come to you, opening the umbrella and heading out together. Kami-sama, the boy’s thoughts were almost loud, This is my moment._

_It was then he took a good look at you. You were as tall as he was, a fact that wasn’t strange to him or bothered him. Your eyes were glued to the ground as you walked, and your hands were colored a strange pink at the edge of your fingers. Your hair smelt… god, it smelt divine—and your cheeks were flushed and he wondered if it was because it was a tad bit cold now that it was raining._

_“Did you have practice, senpai?”_

_He was taken aback at your need to maintain a conversation._

_“Y-Yeah! I’m part of the—”_

_“Volleyball club,” You turned to him, now realizing your faces were merely inches away, you noticed his eyes were struggling to stare into yours (they desperately wanted to look everywhere else), “I’ve seen you play.”_

_You had seen him play? That must be because of the Nationals last year. Now that Karasuno was a powerhouse, and after his dear seniors had graduated, third-year Nishinoya was proud to have his team grow even more—it was wonderful that he was being recognized, but it felt strange because he didn’t know you._

_“What’s your name?” The excitement was gone—and if it wasn’t, it had masked itself as a curiosity._

_“(l/n) (y/n). Chem club.” You said, giggling._

_“Chemistry?! That’s… That’s so cool!” I’m so bad at chemistry!_

_“Is your name…?”_

_He had forgotten to introduce himself! If she had seen him play, she wasn’t obsessed enough to know and remember his name—of course, she wasn’t a stalker so it only made sense! Noya would have slapped his forehead if he was alone._

_“Nishinoya Yuu! You can call me Noya-senpai.”_

_When you turned to look him in the eye and shoot a smile at him, “Noya-senpai,” Noya swore nothing looked more beautiful._

You were walking back home after school that evening. It was strange how your life had revolved into having you go back to school—a science teacher for kids—it was beautiful. You loved teaching, and you were really good (or that’s what you liked telling yourself); you occasionally met with a few seniors from your own school, who got to know you because of Noya himself. It was as if he was now part of a string of friends you had and there was no true way of ever exiting your life. 

From a distance, you noticed Tanaka and his gorgeous wife, Kiyoko, at their store. Pressing your lips together, you entered the store only to have Kiyoko wave at you. 

“Ryu-san, Kiyoko-san,” It was lovely that you called them by their first names, but it has been several years after all, “How are you?”

Kiyoko grinned at Tanaka from the side, “He lost his temper today.”

“N-No! I pointed out a mistake, is all.”

You loved their dynamic, but strange jealousy bubbled in your heart when you looked at the two of them. Ryo loved Kiyoko from high school and now they’re married—it was the oldest story in the book, the one that you so desperately wanted for yourself, but the attempt to even try to ground Noya seemed so wrong that it made you guilty for even thinking it. 

Tanaka turned to you after his outburst before sighing. He looked uncomfortable all of a sudden, rubbing the back of his neck. You tilted your head in wonder. 

“What’s wrong?”

Kiyoko blinked before turning to you, “(y/n), it’s just…” You were clearly not ready to hear what was to come next, “Nishinoya is back.”

Your heart skipped a beat. This sentence was always the strangest. Does your heart really skip a beat or does it actually stop for a second before it remembers that beating is good for it?

“Oh, uh…” What do I say? What do I say? What do I say? “That’s good… How… How is he?”

Ryu and Kiyoko looked at each other before turning to you. You secretly hoped he wasn’t engaged or married or came back with a kid or who knows what level of spontaneity Nishinoya was capable of? Even Noya surprised himself on most occasions. 

“He’s asked the team to come back for one game. Practice. Like the good old days.” 

“You should come, (y/n).” 

When Kiyoko suggested that you come, you instantly wanted to say no. There was no question of ego here—you weren’t saying no because Noya hadn’t let you know he’d returned, no. You weren’t even saying no because Noya hadn’t asked you himself to join the practice. You were never part of the team, but strangely, they had all made you feel so welcome. You cleared your throat before feeling a sweat form on your temple, you were not ready to see him. Just as you were never ready for him to leave.

“I’m… I’m not that brave.” 

That was it. And that was all you could do, too. Because, what can one do in a situation like this? You were clearly supposed to have moved on, yet you hadn’t. How could you face Nishinoya when you had both your legs stuck in the past?

Ryu shrugged before saying, “Hey, you know… Maybe, seeing him can—”

“Thanks for letting me know, I… Give him my greetings?” 

One of the things Noya had told Ryunosuke that he loved most about you was how much he admired your fortitude. Every bone in your body could be cracking and you’d wink and give him a smile—your struggles weren’t a secret, they were the basic foundation of the strength you carried so elegantly. You wore this fortitude like makeup and that drove Noya crazy. When you turned and waved at Kiyoko and Tanaka right then, Ryu saw what Noya had seen in you. 

Still sees in you.

It was indeed strange that it rained right then—and there was something you would never know. You were not the only one reminded of Noya when it rained; rain reminded him of you—inexplicably, the rain itself was riddled with you, awake with you, and alive with you. One lone Thursday evening in Italy, it was raining heavily; just like the day he first met you. He would never know, and neither would you, that it was also raining in Miyagi that day, at the exact same moment. 

It was as if the universe was sick of the two of you pining for each other, continents away. 

Noya sat inside his little flat in Italy, staring at the window, standing before it with a cup of tea in his hands. He was never really a coffee person—he was energetic without it. The rain reminded him of you because of so many reasons; it was a part of your love language. He met you in the rain, he fell in love with you in the rain, and he broke up with you as it was about to rain. Three very important parts of his life, the third one being the most defining moment.

_I won’t tell you I’ll miss you. It’ll only hurt you more, Yuu-chan._

Even when he was breaking your heart, you had willingly given it to him. He remembered how his eyes leaked tears right then, how he refused to have you see him cry, how he couldn’t stop crying even as he reached the airport. He wanted to see the world, he wanted to explore—and he had. He was happy, he was moving forward, he loved many after you, yet you held on to such a big part of him that Noya found himself suffocating on random days because you were not there.

_“Noya-senpai,” It was still before the two of you became a couple when this incident happened. “Don’t you have practice today?”_

_Nishinoya was known to be someone who could surprise another. He had practice, but that day was important. Ryu and Shoyo both had told him to skip that one day and tell you something really important. He looked at you before grinning and then turning to the rain and pointing at the sky._

_“Perfect weather for meat dumplings, don’t you think?”_

_Your eyes sparkled at his announcement, “Of course, but practice?”_

_Noya scoffed, “One day with my favorite kouhai is fine, (y/n)-chan!”_

_You blushed darkly at being called a favorite and Noya noticed. He could stare at the image of you blushing at what he said for the rest of his life and he wouldn’t regret it. Opening the umbrella, he ushered for you to get under it before you willingly stood beside him, not noticing the blush on your senpai’s cheeks as your hair brushed against his cheek._

_“So (y/n)-chan,” He wasn’t used to calling any girl by her first name but of course, you were different. “How’s the club thing coming along?”_

_“One of the first years broke a beaker,” Noya knew what a beaker was thanks to you, “I had to fill in a bit of paperwork to replace it. Sensei was pissed.”_

_When you giggled, you inevitably tore a hole in his stomach. Noya looked up at the sky and pondered if this was a sign, the rain wasn’t too heavy, but it wasn’t light where you could walk without an umbrella either. The view was comforting, the air was cozy and you…_

_…you were beautiful._

_“(y/n)-chan,” He knew he had to do it. “I need to tell you something.”_

_You turned to look at him from the side because turning to him completely when both of you were under one umbrella could mean breaching personal space even more than it was already breached. You were red-faced, but you noticed that he was too. Your eyes darted to his lips and then his fiery eyes, eyes that you had grown to love so, so much._

_And you did the one thing that Noya knew could kill him._

_You smiled._

_“Yes?”_

And it was in that casual glance that Noya fell for you. It was that casual glance which was the beginning of a cataclysm of love that still had not ended four years later. Noya did not regret wanting to travel the world, but boy, he sure as hell did regret not doing it with you.

*

It had been raining for over an hour; not that it bothered you greatly. You were in your apartment now, your dog sleeping soundly on your bed. You were drinking tea—a drink you knew Noya preferred more than coffee. You sighed. It was then you felt the breakdown catch up to you, your fingers tightened around the warm cup before feeling your lip tremble. You shut your eyes and felt the back of your eyelids burn at how long you’d held back those tears. It was raining heavily outside in Miyagi, Nishinoya was back, and you were glad.

You were glad that it was raining because it accompanied your sadness. Rain, in many ways, made you feel less alone. According to you, all rain was, was a cloud—falling apart, and pouring its shattered pieces down on top of you. It made you feel good to know you’re not the only thing that could fall apart. It made you feel better to know other things in nature can shatter too.

You laid your head on the table and felt your little furball nuzzle at your feet. You cried, and cried, and cried that late evening, the room feeling so empty because the one you wanted wasn’t in it. 

Suddenly, your phone rang—knocking the breath out of you suddenly. You gulped before noticing that it was Shoyo who was calling you, and you knew instantly why. Shoyo and you barely kept in touch, not because you didn’t like talking to him but because Shoyo was busy with his own tours and staying in Brazil. You wondered if Shoyo was back too, and by ‘team practice’ did he mean the entire team? Did that mean Asahi-san came back from Tokyo? Did that mean Tobio-kun was back too?

You silently wiped the tears off your face before picking the call.

“Shoyo? Hi! H-How are you—”

“(y/n)?”

You almost dropped the phone. 

“Yuu…” You whispered, not knowing why he called you using Shoyo’s phone.

That meant Shoyo was back. 

“(y/n), I uh… Can we meet?”

Did Ryu tell him that you weren’t brave enough? Did Ryu tell him you were not ready to see him again?

“I… I don’t…” You breathed in before gulping and replying, “It’s raining—”

“When has that ever been a problem?” Noya’s voice was poison to your heart right now but god, you had an appetite for poison right then.

“Yuu-chan…” You felt tears in your eyes, “…I…” _Please don’t be so familiar with me. Please don’t make me believe again._

_You’re only going to leave. You can’t stay here._

“Shoyo told me where you stay. Should I… Can I…?”

You nodded before wiping the tears before they fell. 

“Yes, yes. I hope you don’t get drenched.”

“You’ve got towels, right?”

You rolled your eyes, “You’ll fall sick, Yuu-chan, you’ve got a poor—” You stopped yourself. You knew he fell sick easily, which is why he was so careful. Yuu noticed that you held back, but that was for later.

“I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”

“Okay.”

So many questions floated around in your head and you couldn’t comprehend what had just happened. What did he mean by ‘in a bit’? You noticed Rai, your dog, get on guard. Your eyes widened at his behavior before turning to the door and narrowing your eyes in suspicion. When Noya meant ‘a bit’… 

The door knocked exactly three times, loud and confident. Rai began to bark loudly but he was a tiny corgi that reminded you so much of Noya. 

“Rai, it’s okay.” 

You even named him ‘Rai’ meaning thunder. Right after one of Noya’s special moves.

You opened the door and there he stood, not even close to drenched, dry as a leaf, his eyes piercing into you. He was taller than you now—a few inches but it suddenly made him look so mature. He was wearing a pair of brown cargo shorts and a plain white tank. 

“(y/n)!” 

You greeted him before welcoming him inside where Yuu noticed Rai growling. He bent down and tickled the dog’s chin before Rai melted in Yuu’s hands. Your heart warmed at the sight; he was always good with animals—it was almost like magic.

“H-How are you?” You asked, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“I’m amazing, (y/n),” He stood up before turning to you. “You look beautiful—”

Your eyes widened at his choice of words. He stopped himself before rubbing the nape of his neck awkwardly. He didn’t know what was appropriate and what wasn’t.

“I thought you wouldn’t come to see me.” 

Noya’s wide eyes met yours. He almost looked hurt at what you said.

“What… Why?”

You shook your head before rubbing your arm cautiously, “I just… I thought you’d moved on.”

When Noya didn’t say anything, you felt stupid. You had made this entire room awkward now and it was all your fault. You cleared your throat before blinking and asking him, “Are you hungry?”

“You know I always am.” Noya chuckled.

“I’ll whip something up for you.” 

“I’ll help—”

“N-No, it’s okay—”

“What should I do?” He asked, like a good boy, and you almost melted at the sight.

“Cut onions.”

Noya’s smile fell before his lips quivered dramatically. You giggled at his response before telling him he didn’t have to do it but then sighing, Noya walked to your little kitchen before taking the onion out of the basket and finding your cutting board and knife all on his own, and beginning to chop. You were watching with wide eyes, confused and impressed.

“Yuu-chan, you… I thought you hated onions?”

“When I was in Italy, I had to cook for myself. I realized how important these little shits are. Can’t not have them in your food, you know?”

You giggled before taking out a few eggs and tomatoes. You stood beside him and began to cut the red fruits. Yuu looked at you from the corner of his eye and just watched.

“I missed you, (y/n).”

You paused before he noticed your mouth open and close instantly. He knew you were thinking of what is most appropriate to say. He hated that you were filtering words like that, but he understood as well.

“I… I missed you too, Yuu-chan.”

He desperately wanted to tell you he loved you but he felt selfish. He was the one who left, he was the one who wanted to travel the world and see new sights—he had chosen his dream over you but it all felt so empty when he actually went there. And here you were, teaching in Chidoriyama, having named a dog after a bunch of stupid words he had said as a kid, living in the memory he had left behind.

You deserved so much better than what he could give you. Yet, you went on picking him again, and again and again.

The air suddenly changed and you felt it. You knew he was looking at you, the onions only half chopped. You stopped before noticing how he was merely inches away from you—you could feel his breath on your nose. 

The first time Noya kissed you wasn’t planned but he really, really did think he had to plan it out. He was watching Shoyo try to teach you how to receive, which was something he wanted to teach you, but just looking at you with one of his best friends was making his heart melt. You looked at Noya watching you and grinned at him before he felt his heart break at how beautiful you were.

_After practice, Ryu, you and Noya were walking back—before you accidentally revealed to Ryu that Noya was coming over to yours that day. Ryu was a terrible tease, teasing the both of you for your ‘alone time’ right then, which was something both of you had planned after all. Once you two had gotten rid of Ryu, and Noya entered your house (your parents both were at work), you noticed him look very, very uncomfortable._

_“Yuu-chan?”_

_He could hear you call him that for the rest of his life._

_“I really, really want to kiss you, (y/n).” Noya was admirable because he was honest._

_You giggled, “I want to kiss you too—”_

_But you hadn’t expected him to kiss you right then. He pressed his lips to yours and didn’t move, awkward and forced as it was, your eyes wide but his were tightly shut. It wasn’t as if you were an expert when it came to kissing someone but you had read books and watched movies where it definitely seemed less… rigid than this._

_Your hands traveled to his face and you held him softly. Yuu’s eyes widened at the sudden touch, but he saw that you were easing into it and quickly followed. You moved your lips a tad bit before kissing him properly, tilting your head to get a better angle. Noya’s hand slowly came down to your waist before pulling you closer, chests touching, his mind screaming, his brain almost shutting down—he felt you open your mouth as you kissed him and he did the same before realizing that kissing was a lot more than instinctual._

_It was passion and who knows passion better than he did?_

_Every kiss after that, Noya blew your mind away._

You quickly turned away from him and focused on the tomatoes. You were just staring at the red fruit, rivaling it as your face felt hot, and you heard shuffling to your side.

“(y/n), I missed you.” His voice broke, and your heart followed after.

You turned to him before frowning at him, eyes wet with tears. He could not do this to you. He had no right. But god, seeing him with tears streaking down his face broke your heart.

“I have no right to be standing here, in front of you. I didn’t call you from my phone because I was so, so scared you wouldn’t pick up. I was scared to see you, but I had to. I had to because…”

You knew what he was going to say but you had to stop him.

“Yuu-chan, please don’t.”

He shook his head, “I came back,” Your eyes were sharp, widening as you were slowly realizing what he was saying. “For good.”

“…what?” Your voice was a whisper.

He wanted to touch you so badly. It was raining outside. And the rain had always defined so many important moments in your lives. He walked toward you, an inch separating you. 

“I love you,” You shook your head but his hands went flying to your face, “I have never stopped loving you… I…”

“What about your dreams? I can’t keep you here, it’s not fair—”

“(y/n), you are everything I need. If I want to go explore, I’ll take you with me!”

You couldn’t believe what he was saying, “Yuu-chan—”

“I could feel you missing me, you know? I could feel it. Whenever it rained, I knew you were here, thinking of me. I had to be away from you to know what I really, really want.”

“I love you so much, Yuu-chan. I’ve never stopped,” your sobs were loud and echoed in your little apartment. “Everything reminds me of you, everything—”

He kissed you to shut you up and you instantly kissed him back. If you thought he was a good kisser back then, he was a genius right now. Your hands flew to his hair and it felt as if you had kissed him just yesterday. The familiarity flooded your brain and you felt high—Yuu’s hands wound themselves around your waist before crushing you to him, Rai was somewhere in the room, scandalized; and when you pulled away, you pressed your forehead to his chest and had him hold you. 

What you both would never know was that one day when it rained simultaneously in Japan and Italy, when the both of you stared out your window pining for the other, the universe decided to make it happen. Not because your love was true, which it could be. But simply because you had taught Nishinoya the beauty of fear. 

For a boy who grew up afraid and believed being afraid was wrong, there’s a great deal of beauty that fear can bring in.

You had taught him that fear can make you choose what you really, really need. 

So that one day, many years ago, the rain defined your lives before you even knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this kinda moved me?


	4. hushed feelings - kuroo tetsuroo (soulmate AU)

Ever since Kuroo Tetsuro could remember walking, he had been certain that he had no soulmate. 

It wasn’t because he didn’t believe in them, or because he didn’t like the idea of them, Kuroo never really held any malice toward the idea or principle of soulmates—it’s just that unlike the rest of the population, he just couldn’t feel them. 

It is said that soulmates can feel each other’s deepest feelings—especially when it got extreme. For instance, extreme joy or sorrow, or anger or jealousy, could be instantly recognized by the other—and it is only when the soulmates touch skin-to-skin for the first time does this ‘stop’ or in other words, sync together. It was perhaps the universe’s way of saying ‘you’re not alone’ or a mockery from the universe saying, ‘you’re not alone, but you’re never going to find them’. 

However, for Kuroo, things were different. People usually start feeling their better half’s emotions by the time they’re 10 or 11 years old. Sometimes, it can take up to when a person reaches 15 or 16. Kuroo was currently 17 years old. And not once in his entire life did he feel someone else’s emotions. He wondered if the person had some kind of mental disorder where they can’t process or feel extreme emotions; he wondered if the other person could feel his own emotions—feelings of joy or anger because he was certain that he had moments when he couldn’t contain himself. 

On most days, Kuroo felt absolutely alone—wondering if he was one of the several sad folks that’s born without a soulmate because he was just meant to dig through the earth by himself. 

However, he wasn’t the sort to feel unhappy over something like this. At least, not externally. He’d notice when Yaku would walk into the gym feeling rather obliviously happy or when Kenma just felt lower than usual—and he’d think of how each of these people has someone waiting for them, to meet one day. On most days, he just felt anger—over everything, wondering if this entire soulmate fiasco was unfair; not allowing people to meet whoever they wanted, fall in love with no strings attached. The complications of the universe angered him, but the helplessness made it worse.

Walking into practice one evening, he noticed his team huddled over the corner—around something. There were a bunch of girls and a crying Yamamoto, standing in the distance. Kuroo blinked before walking over there, curious as to what had occurred. 

He saw you, lying there, unconscious.

“What—” Kuroo’s face contorted into that of extreme panic, then turning to Yamamoto, he waited, “—happened?

“I swear! I didn’t see her! It was as if she wasn’t even there! I would never spike on a girl on purpose!”

That much is true, Kuroo thought before looking at you, peacefully out of it, before sighing and picking you up. As captain, and even if this had never happened before, he had to take you to the nurse. What were you doing in the gym all alone? And why hadn’t anyone noticed you? 

Shooting Kenma a look, the dyed haired boy nodded once before ushering Yamamoto out of the way. Kuroo now focused entirely on you and rushed to the nurse. You were breathing (and you looked like you were asleep, strange as it was). Kuroo reached the nurse’s office rather quickly since it was after school hours. Upon taking a mere glance at you, the nurse cringed before slapping her own forehead.

Kuroo blinked. 

“Does she come here often?” He asked, smirking.

“You won’t believe it,” the nurse pointed to the lone bed and Kuroo followed, “It’s like she lives here.”

Kuroo chuckled before noticing you slowly waking up, wanting to sit this down and ask what you were doing in the gym in the first place. Apart from giving Yamamoto a scare for his life, Kuroo thought, unaware of the smirk sitting on his face.

“The face you’re making is creepy, senpai.”

Kuroo blinked before noticing you, staring at him, practically emotionlessly. Smirking, Kuroo leaned forward before blinking at you, filtering the questions in his head.

“What were you doing in the gym, kouhai-chan? Yamamoto’s never going to live down hitting you with the ball—”

“I followed a cat, is all.” 

It was strange, Kuroo thought, of how casual your words were. It was as if you made no effort to communicate, your eyes were fixed at him and he was sure that he had your attention, but it wasn’t in any other way apart from when you’re reading a book or crossing the road. Kuroo noticed the lack of movement on your eyebrows, of how… emotionless you presented yourself as. It was honestly…

…really creepy.

“Uh,” He had to get back to practice. “I’ll make sure that the cat is fine.”

“I’m sorry for disrupting practice,” Kuroo paused before looking at you again, “I might not look it, but I mean it.”

You were right, you did not look like you meant it. But you were looking straight into his eyes that he couldn’t look away and his heart was screaming that you meant what you said. Shooting you a grin, Kuroo raised a thumb up to you, to which you merely just blinked—and walked out of the room.

A second later, he felt it; Kuroo paused, his eyes widening a tad bit slowly and his pace slowed accordingly. A sadness that crept into his system, almost as if it was too shy to come to him entirely. It was the sort of sadness that you knew you were going to feel eventually, but chose not to be entirely ready for its arrival. It felt as if he was out of breath at that second, feeling for the first time what his soulmate was feeling, a sadness that was scared to let him know that they were there. A hand shot to his chest, where the emotions felt concentrated most, and he stood there, confused the whole time. 

“What the…” 

Why now after so many years? And why did it feel like it wasn’t the first time? Why did Kuroo feel like he had felt what this person was feeling for years, but had not recognized it? Why did it feel so familiar yet alien? 

You walked out of the nurse’s room and saw him there, frozen. You bit your lower lip before rushing out, trying to suppress whatever it was that you were feeling at least until you got home.

*

“I felt my soulmate’s emotions for the first time today!” Kuroo said, grinning hopelessly before noticing Yaku roll his eyes.

“Oh! I thought you didn’t have a soulmate?” Lev asked, genuinely surprised.

“Shut it.” Kuroo snapped, grimly.

“What were they feeling?” Kenma was the one to ask, knocking Kuroo out of his stupor.

“It was the weirdest sort of sadness I’ve ever felt in my life. As if she saw a dress she couldn’t buy and was crying for it from outside the window.”

“That actually sounds cute.” Yaku mused, blinking.

Scoffing, the scheming captain had had enough of the soulmate talk—he was certain that if he started to feel them now, then it was only about time before he got to actually feel more of what they were feeling; continuing with practice, the entire team couldn’t even tell if Kuroo was distracted, yet he was. All he could think about was how familiar it felt to have felt this person’s emotions for the first time. It was unnatural. 

While leaving, Kenma and Kuroo waved goodbye to the rest of the team. Kuroo suggested they go get something to eat first, but Kenma had other things to do—which made the taller male roll his eyes at the mere thought. 

“Ah,” Kuroo said, his hand flying to where his heart was located, “There it is again, Kenma.”

“There what is?”

“That weird sadness,” Kuroo mused, “It’s like she’s calling out to me! I mean, after all these years of not feeling anything, I’ve been feeling latently sad all evening today. Maybe she just wants a hug.”

“You don’t know who this person is, Kuroo. Give it a break.” 

Kuroo wanted to scoff at his friend but paused when he actually felt the feeling intensify. He felt nauseous suddenly, and the intense need to cry—scream, if it would help. It was as if someone was stepping on his heart and all he wanted to do was cry—he could only wonder what his soulmate was actually feeling at that second. Shaking his heart, he attempted to cover it up for there was nothing he could do but ponder over what could have caused this sudden burst of sadness, yet, there was a part of him that began to think of why now—and not before?

A moment later, Kuroo noticed you a bit ahead and decided to speak to you to take his mind off the growing ache in his chest. Kenma wanted no part of Kuroo’s plan, so he stuck to playing his game as Kuroo rushed over and approached you. Running over to you, (who was considerably shorter when compared to his giant stature), Kuroo tapped your shoulder and had you turn around only to have his breath stuck in his throat as tears poured out of your eyes like dewdrops off a fresh leaf.

“S-Senpai?”

He paused, feeling the pain in his chest grow. Kuroo knew that he could tell with one glance, one look, one simple instant. It was your eyes. Despite the tears streaming down your face, they were still dark-rimmed, haunted, and sad. Most of all though, they were familiar. The fact that you had been a stranger up until that point changed nothing at all. He’d spent summers and winters picturing those same eyes—happy, angry, scared, lost, confused—staring back at him. He would have known them anywhere. 

“It’s you.”

You quickly wiped your tears away and tried to bolt out of there, but Kuroo grabbed your wrist and halted you to the ground. Kenma noticed what was happening a few feet ahead but paused in his steps, seeing the stern look on his friend’s face. The girl beside him was crying, and something told him that it had a lot to do with how Kuroo had been feeling all evening.

“I _know_ it’s you—”

“Let go of me, you don’t know what you’re—”

“Hey,” 

He didn’t know why he was pleading. He had felt her existence just that day, it felt too unreal to even fight for. But, seeing her cry turned his insides around. There was something strange going on, and he really, really wanted to know what it was.

“Why does this… Why does this feel—”

“I don’t want any part of this, senpai. I don’t—”

Kuroo raised his eyebrows, “Wait, you don’t want a soulmate?”

You looked up at the black-haired male before frowning, “No. No, I don’t want a soulmate. I’ve never wanted a soulmate! That’s why I’ve been taking these suppressants to—” 

Your eyes widened and you slapped your mouth shut. Kuroo’s grip on your arm loosened. 

“Did you… Did you know it was me?”

You sniffed before looking away from him. Nodding once, you hoped to all hell that he would drop it.

“How long?”

“Why does it matter—”

“For how long have you known, kouhai-chan?” 

You’ve never heard him speak so callously before, but he had lost the amount of patience he had within him. 

You could now feel his anger. The void in his chest was beginning to fill with anger. Quiet, defeated anger that guaranteed him the right to his hurt, that believed no one could possibly understand that hurt—no one, except you—who was giving it to him. You felt another burst of sorrow hit the back of your throat, but you were sure as hell not going to lose it in front of him. 

“I…” You were afraid of doing a great many things but, “I knew for a few days.”

What you were most afraid of was lying. And here you had told the biggest lie that could potentially destroy something before it even began. With that, Kuroo let go of your hand and walked away, you were unsure if he was ignoring you or if he was hurt, but you could feel what he was feeling—and it wasn’t pleasant. You wanted to stop him and explain, but you knew that there was no point to it. Biting your lower lip, you walked home, uninterrupted. 

“What did she say?” Kenma asked, staring at his friend’s face.

Kuroo wasn’t sullen, he was angry. And Kenma noticed it right away. Kuroo’s anger wasn’t loud, it was quiet, seething and potentially could destroy his mental health more than any other emotion. Kuroo’s anger was liquid fire, soothing to look at yet scorching hot. 

“It’s nothing.” 

Kenma knew it wasn’t _nothing_ , but there was no way he’d get his friend to talk about it right away. This was the sort of thing that would take time, yet he wondered what you had done that could have driven him to the edge like this. 

When you reached home, there was no one there. No one would be, your parents were always out—it was unusual if they were home. Your elder brother was in college in the States, and here you were—alone, paranoid and heartbroken. Your mother had been entirely against the idea of soulmates, calling it primitive and restricting, and while you could see her point, it was always a matter of personal interest for you. You always wondered who your soulmate was, you always wondered what it would be like to meet your significant other, someone you could reach so emotionally. 

Your mother had not met her soulmate. Your parents were not soulmates, to begin with, yet there you were. A ‘happy’ family, or so you’d like to call it. Your mother had been giving you suppressants ever since you were young, so as to avoid letting your soulmate feel whatever it was that you were feeling; however, as the doctor had warned, the pills had an adverse effect on your mental wellbeing. On most days, you felt absolutely nothing. On most days, you realized that you had to carry this feeling around, pocketing it with you because normal life went on—regardless of how broken you felt. The pills were slowly eating away your mind yet because you couldn’t say a word in edgewise with your mother, you strove along, like a puppet, doing as she demands because it was the same case with your brother but he luckily got away.

At heart, you have always been a coper; or that’s what you called yourself secretly. You’ve mostly been able to walk around with your wounds safely hidden, and you’ve always stored up your deep depressive episodes for the weeks off when there was time to have an abbreviated version of a complete breakdown. But in the end, you’d be able to get up and on with it, could always do what little must be done to scratch by. 

It was not until a few months ago did things start to change. 

You’d always feel what your soulmate was feeling. Episodes of absolute elation and frustration sometimes—this person had their shit together. You felt it for the first time when you were 9 years old, a foreboding sorrow that you could relate to losing a parent or a pet; you wondered if this person lost someone special to them at such a young age, or if they were young at all—you’d never know. After that, you mostly felt hesitance and the need to feel happy again directed from them; you slowly felt this person begin to heal, and feel joy, learn how to deal with their own emotions and you wondered if they ever thought of the possibility of you somewhere.

You kept your soulmate’s emotions to yourself because they were special to you. Despite what your mother said, despite what you were asked to believe, your heart yearned for someone to hold you, tell you that it was okay, to give you space to be yourself—yet, nowadays, it felt like you were asking for too much. 

A few months ago, you saw Kuroo Tetsuroo for the first time. He was laughing at his friend in the corridor and the joy you felt was in sync with his—there was no doubt about it. He was your soulmate. 

You didn’t want to be a stalker, yet you couldn’t avoid trying to see what he was doing, trying to learn what he was like, what his hobbies were—and when you discovered that he was the captain of the Volleyball team in your school, also the best friend of one of your classmates, you were even more curious. 

You wondered if he ever felt your absence; and if he could ever feel your yearning, he wondered if it could mean anything.

That day, you were at the gym not because you followed a cat. It was simply because you wanted to see him. It was no crush, you weren’t that type of schoolgirl, you merely wanted to see what he played like—having been afraid all along to witness him in action. However, you weren’t noticed by anyone and perhaps that wasn’t a good thing at all since the ball hit you in the back of your head and sent you to the ground.

That was how you met your soulmate. And singlehandedly destroyed any prospect of being with him or learning more about him.

As days passed, you felt Kuroo’s rage and confusion—the simple-minded betrayal that anyone would feel after an episode like that had occurred. You wouldn’t stop taking the supplements, and your heart was too scared to take a risk to go against what your mother had ordered you to do. Yet, feeling his emotions day in and day were was starting to exhaust you, and the growing guilt left you breathless every day. 

You turned to the side in the corridor, bumping into someone. You always hid when trying to take the supplements, but this was unexpected. In front of you was your classmate, Kenma, who was also Kuroo’s best friend. Your eyes widened and you knew he saw the pills in your hand. 

“Are those supplements?”

You were quiet, hands shaking, unable to say a word.

“Why are you doing that?”

 _I can’t not_ , you thought, but you knew you couldn’t say.

“You’re hurting him.”

Tears filled your eyes, and you nodded because you knew. You knew how much you were hurting him, you didn’t need someone to come and tell you to your face that what you were doing was wrong. 

“I know…” You said, whispering. Kenma blinked.

“I know I’m hurting him, but I can’t not do this.”

“What do you mean? Of course, you can. Just…” Kenma placed a hand at the back of his neck, “Just pretend that you’re taking them if someone’s making you.”

The thought of lying to your mother did cross your mind, but you weren’t sure. You were scared that she would catch you, you were scared that she would find out and punish you. You were technically scared of all the hypotheticals because the idea scared you to your very core.

“You can’t be scared all the time,” His voice was soft, like a lullaby, “If you really want this, you should take it.”

You gasped, but biting your lip and clutching the box of pills harder. You looked at Kenma once and nodded, before walking away briskly. As you passed the dry waste bin, you threw the box of pills inside and headed to class.

*

Kuroo woke up with tears in his eyes. 

His eyes then widened before he wiped them away, scrunching his eyebrows as he tried to think of whether he had a nightmare. He instantly thought of _you_ , because there was no other explanation. _Did she forget to take her pills?_ He thought, but his heart was wrenching at the thought of what you were feeling right then.

Is this why you were taking the pills? Because if you didn’t, all you felt was sadness.

He headed to school with Kenma, quiet the entire way. It was very much unlike him, Kuroo wasn’t used to being so out of character. The feeling of heaviness grew in his chest, but he felt bits and of other emotions as well. Panic, anxiety, and fear—what the hell was going on with your mind? 

“Oi, Kenma,” Kuroo called out just as they reached school. “Is she in your class?”

Kenma nodded. “Name’s (l/n) (y/n).”

 _What the hell are you feeling?_ Kuroo almost blacked out with how heavy your emotions were. 

“Is it too much?” 

Kuroo didn’t know how to answer that question. He stayed quiet, only intended to meet with you during lunch, force you to talk—because this was driving him insane. He only wondered how the hell you were living all these years, by yourself, bottling all of this deep-rooted heaviness inside. He felt angry for not being called in on this, because even if he wasn’t sure if he could have helped, Kuroo was angry because he was not given a chance.

During lunch, he noticed you walk out of class but he didn’t give you a second to explain as he guided you up to the roof. There were others there, but Kuroo always knew to find a spot that no one else could see. 

You stared at him with wide eyes and he felt the growing anxiety bottle in your chest. He sighed.

“(l/n)-chan,” He said, rubbing the back of his neck, “What’s going on? You didn’t take those—”

“I stopped.”

He blinked, “How come?”

“I… I’m living underwater, senpai. Everything seems slow and far away. I know there’s a world up there, a sunlit quick world where time runs like dry sand through an hourglass, but down here, where I am, air and sound and time and feeling are thick and dense,”

He didn’t understand you. You then showed him the pills and continued,

“My parents are not soulmates. My mother started giving me these pills ever since I felt the first emotion from your end. Ever since I knew you were there, living and breathing and existing. I… If it weren’t for your friend, I…”

“That’s why I barely felt anything from you. You were… Damn, that’s…” He didn’t know what to say.

Leaning down to your stature, Kuroo’s face was inches away from yours. You were staring at him with wide eyes, as you watched him smirk slowly, or maybe that was how he smiled—whatever it was, it was making you feel warm inside.

“Let’s try to get better, then, yeah?”

“What?”

He hummed before leaning back and standing straight again, “From the looks of it, you’re feeling this way because you’ve lived your whole life unable to feel at all. Come to a few of my games, my team’s gonna show you an array of colorful emotions. Pick whatever you want.” 

You didn’t know if he was joking, “Kuroo-senpai—”

“I’m not joking, (l/n)-chan. Yeah, I get that we’re soulmates, but I want to get to know you. And to do that, we need to take this away—” He pressed your nose and chuckled, “—and get to know me while we do this.”

“I… I don’t—”

“And someday, we’ll be what we have to be. It’s sad about your parents, but if they’re happy, then it’s great. I won’t say what your mother did was right or wrong, but you have to decide what you want to do.”

You took a deep breath. 

“Kuroo-san,” He looked at you, earnestly, yet there was a hint of mischief in those eyes, “Someday, we’ll run into each other again, I know it. Maybe I’ll be older and smarter and just plain better. If that happens, that’s when I’ll deserve you. But now, at this moment, you can’t hook your boat to mine, because I’m liable to sink us both.”

Kuroo gave you a soft smile before nodding. Inching forward, he kissed you squarely on the forehead and ruffled your hair. 

“Remember, I’ll feel what you feel, (l/n)-chan!”

You smiled softly to yourself.

*

Kuroo woke up that morning, feeling nothing but pure satisfaction. A smile streaked across his lips when he thought of you—having been years since he had seen you, and noticed how well you were doing. He appreciated your strong desire to not keep in touch, and that left him wondering what you were doing and if you were still in Tokyo. Yawning, Kuroo stepped out of his house, fully intending to take out the trash that one Sunday morning.

Kuroo had texted him saying he had plans—he had met his soulmate last winter, and apparently the two of them were going to some gaming thing.

Kuroo was happy, generally speaking. Sure, he missed the touch of a person on odd days, unable to find it in him to see anyone romantically, knowing you existed. He didn’t blame you—he wished well for you, wanting to give the universe a chance to scheme something this time around. As he was putting the trash in the bin, scratching the back of his bed head, Kuroo felt a sudden jolt of… what was this feeling? The feeling you get when you’re in a rollercoaster? 

_Is she in a theme park somewhere?_ He thought before turning around and freezing. 

There you were, standing in front of him, in the cold winter air of Tokyo, wrapped up in a thousand sweaters. Your face was a tad bit red, and your smile was a tad bit long. Kuroo felt warmth wash over his features. Not a word. No word.

“Kuroo-senpai—”

He rushed toward you, feeling nothing but joy. Wrapping his arms around you, Kuroo breathed into your scent. Your hair tickled his chin and he felt your hands crawl to his back. 

“I don’t normally hug strangers,” Kuroo teased, “But I’ll make an exception for you.”

“I’m sorry I took so long.”

He chuckled. “I barely felt the time go by—”

“I felt your longing for me, please don’t lie, senpai.”

He definitely couldn’t wait to get to know you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i guess i like angsty fics with hot men


	5. rose-colored glasses - oikawa tooru

If anyone asked Iwaizumi, he’d tell them that he doesn’t take Oikawa seriously in anything except Volleyball. 

The boy had a reputation of being a flirt, laughing around, being silly—but hiding away his darker, more ambitious aspects behind a veil of stupidity. Iwaizumi knew his best friend like the back of his hand, and whether he’d like to admit it or not, Oikawa wasn’t the sort to put anyone over his love for the sport—something that once even cost him a relationship. 

Although Iwaizumi knew that the girl Oikawa had dated was just dating him because of his popularity (and he didn’t like her one bit, that Iwa-chan), Oikawa wasn’t that into the girl himself. The reason for their breakup had been a simple one—Oikawa just liked Volleyball more. He wouldn’t let anything distract him, and it wasn’t that he didn’t _let_ anything distract him, it was that nothing ever came close. 

This is why Iwaizumi was confused when Oikawa started talking about _you_ one day in the middle of practice.

“Apparently she’s allergic to flowers, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa snorted, “What girl is allergic to flowers?” 

There was nothing amusing in that statement at all, yet Oikawa was laughing like his heart was hanging loose. Iwaizumi just watched him, as he drank his water and prepared himself for another round of practice. 

“Oh!” As if he was reminded about something, “I told (y/n)-chan to come watch practice sometime. Next week sounds about okay.”

 _Oh, really?_ Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes. He already couldn’t stop talking about you, and if you showed up, Oikawa would be uncontrollable and quite possibly, _unbearable_. But, there was no stopping the setter—Oikawa would do it if his mind was set on it, and turns out, his mind was set on you coming to practice next week. It was a bit impressive that Oikawa didn’t realize that his obsession with you was romantic, because the boy would not stop talking about you if you came up even once. 

Ever since the homeroom teacher transferred your seat to the one beside Oikawa, much to the chagrin of the other girls who desperately wanted to sit there, Oikawa had been obsessed with you. You joked around with him, called him ‘pretty-boy’ as an insult and not a way to get closer to him, minded your own business on most days, and spoke silly things in between class, Oikawa was enthralled to have found a friend in you. Maybe it was this curiosity that he wasn’t used to a girl not throwing herself at him that drove him to want to get to know you, and despite not getting to know you as quickly as he’d liked, Oikawa’s strange curiosity turned out to be a borderline crush.

As they were walking home together, Iwaizumi wanted to slap the back of the setter’s head because there he goes again— _(y/n)-chan this, (y/n)-chan that_ —gah, Hajime wanted to scream!

“Tooru,” Hajime never uses Oikawa’s first name unless it was something serious, therefore Oikawa paused at his friend’s sudden change in demeanor, “Do you like her?”

Oikawa scoffed before shaking his head animatedly, “Of course not! She’s just… (y/n)-chan!”

 _Alright_ , Hajime thought before turning away. If it hadn’t reached a point where Tooru had admitted the crush to himself then there wasn’t much to worry about. However, since the start of this entire ordeal seemed so new, Iwaizumi knew that perhaps, the way it ended would also be a tad bit different.

The next morning, Oikawa walked in to spot you, laying your head on the table, fast asleep. There wasn’t anyone in class yet, since practice had ended early. Hajime was in the bathroom, washing his face or something, which gave Tooru time to head to the classroom much faster. He’d wash his face too, but the sweaty sheen on his cheeks made him seem irresistible, and he wondered how you’d respond to that sight. 

But, you were _sleeping_. And it was hardly 7:45 a.m. Pouting, Oikawa walked over to his own desk before plopping beside you and poking your head. You woke up instantly, before wiping off the bit of drool that had accumulated at the edge of your lip—Oikawa’s eyes widened at how your half-lidded eyes were struggling to land on him before you softly slapped your own cheek a couple of times and sitting up straight.

“You alright, (y/n)-chan?” Oikawa asked, tilting his head, ignoring the loud thumping of his heart.

You nodded before letting out a yawn, “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

He was curious. Why? What were you doing that was so important that you forsake sleep? 

_Did something happen?_

_Is everything okay?_

Oikawa placed a hand against his chest before letting out a breath. The bubbling nervousness was a familiar feeling but there was no incoming match neither was Iwaizumi mad at him, so there was no need for him to be feeling this at all.

“Why were you awake?” Oikawa was proud that this question came out in a tone that suggested that you may have done something naughty.

You scoffed before turning to Oikawa and flicking him on his forehead, letting out a giggle.

“My dog’s sick,” You said, your voice low. “Stupid baby was whining all night. The vet said there’s nothing to worry about, she just ate something.”

The relief that flooded within Oikawa’s bloodstream was unnatural. He turned away from you and hummed, placing his chin on his hand, resting on his elbow. Sticking a tongue out, he wondered what better way to make fun of you now—but the second he turned to see you, you were about to doze off again. A soft smile sat on his features, as he watched you, absolutely being yourself, with no care in the world, letting down all defenses with Oikawa right there beside you. The feeling it gave him was thrilling, to say the least.

That afternoon, it was Iwaizumi who noticed that you were not in any lunch table—in fact, you weren’t even in the cafeteria. He blinked before thinking if you came to school, nodded to himself when he realized that you had, but you were skipping lunch for some reason. Oikawa sat in front of him and looked like he was extra hungry, a tray with traditional rice and curry alongside an extra meat bun.

“Someone’s hungry.” Hajime commented, eyeing the meat bun.

“No, no, Iwa-chan, _this_ ,” Oikawa pointed to the fluffy, white bun, “is for (y/n)-chan. Yuuna-chan was sick all night so she didn’t get much sleep.”

 _Yuuna-chan?_ Hajime’s eyes were spilling confusion. Oikawa chuckled a moment later before stuffing a spoonful of rice with curry. 

“Her dog,” He said, “Yuuna-chan was sick and (y/n)-chan stayed up all night taking care of her. She was literally falling all over the place, sleeping.”

 _So now he’s taking care of her without her asking him?_ Hajime thought to himself, tilting his head a bit. This was nothing like the Oikawa he knew, this was nothing like any Oikawa he knew. This was something he knew that a boy with a crush behaves like. 

“Make up your mind, trashykawa.” Iwaizumi cussed under his breath before finishing his lunch.

Upon reaching class, he noticed that you were asleep. Oikawa was behind him, and Hajime watched the scene unfold before him. Oikawa sat at his desk before poking your head once, stirring you awake.

“Got you a meat bun, (y/n)-chan!”

“Oh! Thanks, Oikawa-san!” You sounded so sleepy.

Hajime sighed before sitting down, continuing to read his book. Until Oikawa admits it that he likes you, there was no problem. Maybe, this is one of those situations where Oikawa thinks he likes you before he realizes that volleyball is more important. It wasn’t as if Iwaizumi didn’t want his best friend liking someone, he just didn’t want someone getting hurt because of his best friend’s singular obsession. 

Because as much as many believe Oikawa can be cold-hearted when it came to the sport, Hajime knew that the brown-haired setter had a heart of gold.

What drove Hajime to the extreme was when Oikawa decided to meet up with you on a Monday. Hajime frowned as Oikawa spoke about the plan he had with you, meeting you at the park where you were going to show off Yuuna-chan’s cuteness, and Iwaizumi felt anger boil in his veins. Mondays were the days Oikawa took a break—and that meant a proper break where he doesn’t think or do anything that could strain him. Yes, dates on Mondays were a great idea, but Hajime hated Oikawa’s half-assed ‘ _we’re just friends, Iwa-chan_ ’ swirling around the air.

“Oi! Trashykawa!” Oikawa blinked before turning to Hajime who had a mean glare plastered on his face.

“What’s up, Iwa-chan?”

“Either confess to her or shut up,” Oikawa’s eyes widened, “We don’t have time for half-assed feelings getting in the way here.”

It wasn’t fascinating to see how quickly Oikawa dismissed what his best friend had to say. Hajime sighed before looking away himself, _let’s see how things unfold_ , he thought before letting it go for now. 

*****

“(y/n)-chan!” Oikawa’s sing-song voice was hard to miss.

You turned to spot him across the corridor, Iwaizumi right beside him. The two of them were approaching you, and you waved kindly, before wondering what Oikawa had to say. You didn’t miss how much he would flirt with you, but you laughed it off, obviously, someone like Oikawa would juxtapose regular conversation with casual flirting; it was just that natural for him. 

You even wondered if he flirted with Iwaizumi, Oikawa just seemed like that kind of person. Not to mention, the reputation that he had.

“What’s up, Oikawa-san?”

It always stung that you’d call him ‘Oikawa-san’, always unintentionally throwing that verbal gap between you two. You’d become ‘(y/n)-chan’ for him in merely a week and here, it had been almost an entire school semester and he was still ‘Oikawa-san’, not even ‘Oikawa-kun’. He didn’t know he was capable of it, but he swallowed that hurt like it didn’t even matter and approached you still.

“We have a game,” Oikawa said, sounding proud of himself, “The Inter-High!”

Your eyes widened a bit before nodding once, “Yeah, I’ve heard that we were exempt from the first round of matches.”

It was then that Hajime recalled a particular conversation he had with Oikawa a while ago. Tooru had mentioned that you were going to come watch practice games, but for some reason, he never mentioned it again, and you never came. You didn’t attend a single practice—and that was a tad bit suspicious.

“We’re playing against Oomisaki High in a week. Want to come support your favorite setter?”

The blatant flirting was a tad bit too loud for Hajime, but you looked like it didn’t phase you one bit. This was also suspicious.

“Hm,” You folded your arms against your chest, shooting a smirk at Oikawa, “You can ask literally any girl, and you’re asking me? Oikawa-san, that’s mean to the girls.”

 _Ah_ , Hajime didn’t think it was suspicious anymore. It was as clear as day. He quickly looked at Oikawa’s face, the smile was slowly being wiped off, his eyes slowly losing the spark, and his tongue inches away from clicking. You were not taking Oikawa seriously, his attempts to flirt with you, please you, get to know you and woo you were all thrown against the wall—it didn’t matter to you not because your eyes were set elsewhere; it didn’t matter to you because your eyes, no matter how much Oikawa would want it, did not meet his.

That evening, right before practice, Hajime noticed Tooru’s stature; he seemed low, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let this affect his game. Oikawa was just that kind of person—he’d put aside everything, even if it meant a genuine crush, and work on his form.

An hour later than usual—that’s how long the practice lasted that evening. No one understood why Oikawa was just that pissed off, was that driven, especially when the game was against a school that they’ve never really played against seriously. They’d all understand if it was Shiratorizawa or even Karasuno for that matter, but Oikawa’s personality during practice that evening just did not make sense.

“Is everything okay with him?” Hanamaki asked Iwaizumi, while Tooru jump served the wall.

Hajime sighed before shrugging, “You know how he gets sometimes.”

“This is just… It’s not like Oikawa-san to act like this over nothing.”

It wasn’t nothing. The first and only time Oikawa ever took someone seriously, the first and only time Oikawa had an open crush on someone for their personality, and to have that person just divert their gaze away from him as if he wasn’t worth anything—that could hurt anyone, even if it was the Grand King of the court. 

“He’ll be fine.”

Hajime had miscalculated. He believed that if it was something Oikawa hadn’t admitted to himself, then there was nothing much to worry about. Not having a dialogue with his friend had proved hazardous, now there was no turning back. He would never admit it, but Hajime cared for Oikawa more than anyone else—he was a best friend, a confidante, and he had seen the many faces Oikawa Toru had presented to the world.

This was the first time he was seeing the face of Oikawa Toru in love, and as many times as Hajime had pictured it being a funny, non-callous, ridiculous face, it was instead the most angsty and life-absorbing face ever.

While heading back home, Hajime noticed the silence, but he was sure that Oikawa himself would address it. He just had to wait.

“Iwa-chan,” Hajime blinked, “She doesn’t take me seriously, does she?”

Iwaizumi sighed, scratching the back of his head, “Well, you do have a track record.”

He heard Oikawa click his tongue after. Does a track record mean that he could never, ever be taken seriously? Did a track record mean that Oikawa was incapable of feeling real emotions? It hurt Hajime to think about it, and he only could imagine what Oikawa must have been feeling.

“You shouldn’t flirt with her so much,” Oikawa blinked before turning to Hajime, “She won’t take you seriously if you joke around so much.”

He joked around because he was breathless around you. He joked around because his lips naturally turned into goofy smiles whenever you were near him. He couldn’t help it, everything about you was intoxicating, and Oikawa felt like a silly little goose with no aim, and when you turned to him, smiling, waving like he was a friend that you would like to talk to, Oikawa’s own smile rivalled an idiot’s. 

He didn’t realize how whipped he was for you until the next few days.

Through each game, Oikawa was painfully aware of how you were not there. He felt your absence like the absence of teeth; he didn’t need a mirror to know that they were not there. His mind was fairly distracted when they were playing against Karasuno, but once they won, his eyes trailed to the stands, his heart knowing you were not there, and Oikawa just turned away.

Iwaizumi winced at how love-struck his friend seemed, but it wasn’t unlike him. Most people believed Oikawa would carry his disappointment blatantly on his shoulders, for the entire world to know, but Tooru wasn’t like that. Tooru swallowed his disappointment, for things that mattered didn’t require loud outbursts; things that mattered came out through silent screams, screams that resonated within his mind, and swallowed him whole. It was during these few days when you were not around did Oikawa realize he was irrevocably in love with you, and for what seemed like the first time, he did not know what to do about it.

Should he just tell you and swallow the rejection? He was a smart lad, he knew you didn’t return his feelings, but that wasn’t what truly bothered him. What bothered Tooru was that you didn’t think his feelings were genuine, and that proved to be hurtful and insulting all at the same time. 

When they were due to play Shiratorizawa, Tooru did not think of you. He played with everything he had, every single cell in his body screamed to be at its best, Iwaizumi doing the same. Every single person in his team had given their all and yet… Yet, getting where he wanted to seemed like an impossible dream. Tooru’s hopes were crushed, his team would not get to the nationals. He wanted to apologize, he wanted to scream that he had failed his team, but no word exited his mouth. Upon reaching the bus to return to their own school, his breath was knocked out of him to find you there.

Iwaizumi ushered the rest of the team inside the bus, before placing a hand on Tooru’s shoulder. Nodding once, Hajime walked away, hoping you wouldn’t tell Oikawa that it was he who had beckoned you.

Hajime had sent a message to you earlier that morning, asking you to come watch the game. It was the finals, after all. 

You noticed Oikawa’s form, but there was no smile on his face. He looked nothing like the Oikawa you knew—the fun, sporty lad whose mouth spilled flirtatious words left, right, and center. You walked over to him, as he stood there, his bag loosely hanging over his shoulder. 

“Oikawa-san?” Your voice was a whisper.

You didn’t know why you felt so overwhelmed upon seeing him like this. 

“We lost.” Oikawa said, trying to sound strong.

You shook your head, “You guys were amazing,” You were suddenly breathless, “ _You_ were amazing.”

You hadn’t ever seen him so… genuine. Was this why he kept asking you to come see him practice? So that you can glimpse at the real side of who he was? You always believed he was joking around, you didn’t even want to get close to someone like him because you knew hurt was in store for you. You forced yourself not to be interested because there was no way in hell someone like Oikawa could like someone like you, someone who wasn’t even in any club, someone with no actual talent, someone who—

Your eyes widened when he hugged you. Almost all of his weight was on you and for the first time, you felt how disappointed he was. It was like osmosis, it was seeping through his body on to yours, and your eyes teared up.

“It’s okay, Oikawa-san,” You said, not knowing if it’ll help. “You were amazing.”

It was a few days after the loss and after learning Shiratorizawa were hailed the winners of this year’s Inter-High did Oikawa text you. You wanted to give him space, knowing you weren’t exactly the closest confidant for the boy. Your eyes scanned the text, knowing what it was, but choosing to step away from any sort of expectation. 

_Let’s get lunch today?_

Your hands ghosted around the screen of your phone before licking your lips and replying a firm, ‘ _sure!_ ’ and leaving it at that. 

You met Oikawa around noon and you wouldn’t deny how breathtaking he looked. He was wearing glasses? That fact shocked you, but everything about him was downright illegal. He was so good looking that it almost caught you off-guard when you were around him, wanting to be normal, wanting to maintain a regular conversation, and not sound like the hopeless high school girl you thought you were. You knew who Oikawa was, but if you weren’t placed beside him on that one day during homeroom, there was no way he’d ever know you.

“What do you like to eat, (y/n)-chan?” 

You thought for a bit before saying, “Barbecue?” 

Oikawa chuckled before you frowned, “What’s funny?”

“Most girls would stall on the answer, you’re different.”

You scoffed, “I know what I like to eat, Oikawa-san—”

“Why don’t you call me by my first name?” He asked, looking at you.

Your eyes widened a bit before a soft blush sat on your cheeks, “Uh… I just…”

“I call you (y/n)-chan, so it’s only fair!”

 _He’s right_ , you thought before looking away, unsure of how to respond. Suddenly, you felt like a peasant—everything about you started to stand out, in a bad way, your mind being extremely unkind to you. The dress you wore, the way you’d done your hair, your shaking fingers, your eyes, your nose—everything started to scream at you. And then there he was, absolutely perfect and spotless, Oikawa Tooru, the epitome of desires, the man with no-fault, grace personified, walking beside you because he wanted to.

You felt nauseous all of a sudden, but you gulped it away forcefully.

The date was actually fun. You never realized Oikawa loved aliens, and since you loved everything about the stars, it was a perfect conversation. That was how most things were with Oikawa—perfect and glorious, just like how he was. You looked away when you caught him looking at your face, wanting to hide in a brown bag. You felt ugly, you felt like you were no match to how he compared as a human being and you felt tears prick your eyes at how you felt.

He even offered to walk you home and as much as your mind screamed that you should have said no, your heart whispered a small ‘yes’, wanting to spend more time with this man, who gave you a thousand reasons to dream yet you couldn’t. 

Standing in front of your gate, Oikawa leaned forward, causing you to gasp—you moved before you could think, your hands planted themselves firmly on his chest before you shut your eyes, feeling your heartbeat in your ears. Oikawa’s eyes widened at the sight of you, before pulling away, red-faced and ashamed, quickly covering his jaw with the back of his hand.

He shook his head and words spilled out of him, “You came because you felt sorry for me, didn’t you?”

Your eyes widened at his cold words, “W-What? N-no, I—”

“Iwa-chan was right,” Tooru clicked his tongue, frowning, “I should just give up on you.”

 _Iwaizumi said that?_ You always believed he didn’t like you, but you never knew that this was how far the conversation had gone. Perhaps, Iwaizumi saw you how you saw yourself, and if that was the case, then he was right.

“Give up on me?” You gulped before frowning, “Do you really… Is this—”

“Yes, this is real.” You had never heard him sound so defeated.

You look up at him, his eyes soft on your form, but bitterness lodged in them where love should have been. You want to gasp, but you weren’t breathing at all, you were shocked to see him the way he was. Did he not see you for who you were? Was he blind? Was he an idiot?

No, he was not any of those things. He was perfect.

But you… 

You were…

“Oikawa-san, I… I really thought…”

Oikawa shrugs, you spotted no tears in his eyes but you wondered how he was feeling, “You thought what? You thought I’m incapable of feeling real things?”

 _No_ , you felt tears prick your eyes, _No, I thought you would never feel them for me._

“Oikawa-san, I… I thought you were joking around because… Look at me! I’m in no club, I have no talent, I… I’m no one—”

Oikawa gives you a look that you really couldn’t decipher. It looked so sad and hurt at the same time.

“You’re blind as hell, (y/n)-chan.”

He couldn’t do it. There was no way he could consider your insecurity right then. Oikawa was far too hurt to consider your thoughts; he felt like he was drowning, with everything that had happened in a matter of a week. His team had lost to Shiratorizawa, they were denied a chance to go to the Nationals, a dream that he had robbed even Iwaizumi off, and the girl he was so devastatingly in love with did not feel the same way.

If he were to deal with your insecurity over his feelings for you, Oikawa hoped he’d get another chance; because right now, his heart was full and inches away from breaking.

You were worried about when school would start again. After Spring Break, you were going to have to face Oikawa again. He’d still be placed beside you, but now things would just be quiet and awkward. Your heart rummaged in your chest when you thought of the brown-haired setter, and your fingers kept shaking at the prospect of having to see him face to face soon. You wanted to clear things up, you wanted to apologize to him, speak to him and have things go back to normal, but…

The whispers in your heart were growing stronger day by day. 

Whispers that told you how pretty Oikawa was as a person. Whispers that told you how hard working he was, how dedicated he was to the sport. Whispers that told you that Oikawa was perhaps perfection personified and it wasn’t always that way—he achieved perfection from falling far too many times but failing to stay down, Oikawa was everything anyone could dream of as a protagonist, as a survivor in a zombie apocalypse, as a high achiever, a dream boy, a marvelous and spectacular individual capable of literally anything he set his mind on.

And then there was _you_. 

Tears filled your eyes as you changed into your indoor shoes; if Oikawa liked you, which he had made so blatantly clear to you weeks ago, then he was wrong. He had to be wrong. You were nothing close to impressive, your mind and body worked like everyone else’s, you were not spectacular, so you had no right to dream of someone who devastatingly brilliant. Oikawa Tooru was your dream celebrity crush, but instead of being a thousand miles away and sparkling from the other side of a black mirror, he was sitting next to you every single day and greeting you with a smile that could outshine the sun.

“(l/n),” 

A voice sounded behind you and your eyes widened when you saw Iwaizumi. You recalled how he had told Oikawa to give up on you, and you wondered again if Iwaizumi saw you the way you were meant to be seen.

“Back then,” You knew what he was talking about, “He was having a difficult time. We lost to a team that he hates with everything he has, and you practically turned him down—”

“I didn’t turn him down, I—”

“Well, do you like him?”

You paused. You were not going to answer that. There was no way you were going to answer that. You were not even going to dream of it inside your head, it was forbidden and it was practically thought-crime. You stood no chance, not even in your fantasies. 

But, Iwaizumi assumed you were not interested.

“The only way you can help him now is if you stay away from him.”

Your eyes widened at his words, wondering why he hated you so. But, the next second, when you looked into his eyes, Iwaizumi was looking at you with an expression that rivaled Oikawa’s back then—the sad and hurt one. You didn’t know what he was trying to tell you, but you were not going to crumble.

“Okay.” You said, before putting on the indoor shoes and heading to class.

When the class began, Oikawa came a few minutes late. The teacher said nothing, allowed him inside and Oikawa sat beside you wordlessly. Iwaizumi watched as you continued to stare into your notebook, your expression void of practically anything, and Oikawa looked bored. Occasionally, he’d see Oikawa steal glances at you, but you refused to look at anything but your notebook. Iwaizumi wasn’t a stalker, he was just a keen observer, and it was at that second did he notice something that perhaps, pieced everything together in a way that literally broke his heart.

You refused to look at Oikawa.

But, that did not mean you never had.

 _Ah_ , Iwaizumi rubbed his palm on his forehead. _This is fucking ridiculous_ , he thought before sighing.

“Iwaizumi-san, is everything alright?” The teacher’s voice broke him from his reverie and he nodded.

“Sorry.”

Practice began normally after, but anyone could tell that Oikawa’s heart wasn’t in it. Hajime wondered if Oikawa still thought of you, but it was obvious, you were lodged in Tooru’s mind like a rock, you weren’t leaving anytime soon. Iwaizumi had to admit, you weren’t like the others. He didn’t understand your deal and maybe it was not for him to understand, but you didn’t throw yourself at Tooru for anything other than the fact that Tooru could shine without anything else. 

You didn’t throw yourself at him because you saw what he was capable of beyond the name he had gotten, beyond the track record that he held—you saw Oikawa Tooru for Oikawa Tooru, the lovable idiot with a determination forged from steel. 

Maybe you thought that you weren’t good enough for him, and Iwaizumi wondered why girls thought that way at all. However, if the object in question was Oikawa then the thought perhaps was valid, after all. There were times when Hajime himself felt lesser to _the_ Oikawa Tooru, but he’s been friends with the brown-haired setter for ages now. He could picture you being insecure, wanting to reach and grab at Oikawa but afraid that his shine might literally burn you.

It would be a lie if you said you weren’t attracted to Oikawa Tooru. As attractive as he was, he was equally passionate and headstrong, and his lame attempts at flirting may not be all great, but he certainly knew how to make you smile from your heart. But, you were never the sort to aim high because you ended up on the losing end far too many times to even think of the result being positive. You gave up way too fast, which was the exact opposite of who Oikawa was.

Your heart was practically glass; and it was the only thing that was kind to you. But, your mind and everything else in your body hated you—which meant you hated yourself, and this was something you could not leap over.

Oikawa spotted you eating lunch by yourself one afternoon, alone and quietly, and he still cursed at himself for liking you. Perhaps, he was destined to like people he knew he couldn’t have, and you were just the start of a list of people who were inevitably going to break his heart. It was ironic, really—while the world believed someone like Oikawa Tooru could have anyone he would ever want, it was the literal opposite.

You got up after eating but bumped into a few girls on the way. The tallest girl in that group snapped at you, for which you just nodded, scurrying away timidly. He knew you could be feisty, but what the hell was that?

Didn’t you want to fight back? It’s not a big deal if you bump into someone, and especially when no one got hurt. 

What the hell were you doing, scurrying away like that?

It was an epiphany really when he caught himself annoyed at you like that. He started thinking about your insecurity—of how he realized that day that you couldn’t even picture someone like Oikawa liking someone like her. It isn’t anyone’s fault if you were insecure, but that is perhaps the first thing Oikawa had to address about you. Everything about you was a glorious combination of everything Oikawa wanted, which he never knew he needed, but that’s what rose-colored glasses tend to do.

When you like someone, you like everything about them, there’s nothing to dislike. 

But, that’s impossible. You can’t not dislike something about someone. This particularly made having a crush so dangerous because you can’t see red flags initially. Not that Oikawa saw a red flag with you, it makes things all the easier to accept now that the rose-colored glasses were off. 

“Excuse me, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa shot up to follow you, leaving Iwaizumi behind with his lunch.

 _Don’t care_ , he thought, swallowing the smile threatening to land on his lips. 

Oikawa didn’t like how much of a pushover you could be at times. This could be because of people having left you in the past, people having misunderstood you, people having broken your heart, trampled all over you, of course, Oikawa had no idea what triggered it, but it was there and it annoyed him. He didn’t like how timid you were with strangers, he didn’t like how you doubted yourself, he didn’t like how your mind treated you—oh, he hated how your mind treated you and if he could get into a fistfight with your mind, he would gladly. 

He didn’t like how you gave up so easily because one of the things Oikawa adored most about you was your heart; it was capable of destroying the world if it wanted to, yet it made you settle for so less. 

And like many things Oikawa found about you that he didn’t like, he could appreciate more the things that he adored you for, and desperately wanted to work with you on having you see yourself the way he saw you.

You felt someone grab the back of your elbow and spin you around, your eyes widened as they land on Oikawa’s determined ones. People around you were gasping now, shocked at Oikawa’s blatant display of… whatever it was. 

“Come with me.” 

The way he ordered you sent shivers down your spine, goosebumps prickled all over your skin as Oikawa led you to someplace a lot more secluded. Your heart kept rummaging against your chest as you stared at the area in your wrist where Oikawa’s hand was wrapped around, afraid to look anywhere else. What felt like forever later, Oikawa stopped and you stared at his chest, afraid to look into his eyes.

“I hate that you’re a pushover,” Your eyes narrow at his words, and before you could continue, “I hate that you let people walk all over you, I hate that you don’t fight back, I hate that you so easily accept things not wanting to change them—”

“Oikawa-san, what are you—”

“I hate that you give up so easily.”

You dared to look at Oikawa now, his eyes cold and placid, staring into yours. There was no smile on his face, somehow this image of Oikawa was dark and terrifying, but you felt warmer as you looked at him. You felt tears prick your eyes, anger bubble in your chest, and you cussed before pushing him with everything you had. Oikawa stumbled backward, but he continued to stare.

“What do you know what I’ve been through?! How dare you assume that I’m this way because I’m a coward—”

“I didn’t say you were a coward, it’s because I know you’re not that these things drive me crazy!”

You froze.

“I like you, (y/n)-chan. I like you so much that it’s literally making me insane. At first, I only saw the things I liked about you, I thought you were perfect, and I wanted you beside me because of that. But, now I see that there’s things I don’t like about you, things I want to help you change, if only you’re willing to, because _god_ ,” Oikawa clicked his tongue, “I want nothing more than for you to see yourself the way I see you.”

You didn’t know what to say. You felt nauseous, the words in your head starting to sound mean again, but Oikawa’s hands quickly grabbed yours and shoved them on the left side of his chest. Your eyes widened as you felt his heart rummage against his chest. Was this…

Was this _your_ doing?

You looked up to see him, soften his expression at you.

“I’m sure there are things about me that you don’t like—”

“Oh, there’s plenty—”

Oikawa chuckles before walking one step closer to you, your hand still in his, against his chest. You were standing so close you could feel his breath on your forehead. The boy was tall. 

“I wish I could kick your mind’s ass.”

You scoffed at his idiotic words, “I don’t think—”

“I’ll make you see what I see, (y/n)-chan,” You couldn’t look away from him, “You are single-handedly the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. Inside and out. You don’t see it, and your mind refuses to admit it, but when I’m with you, I feel so idiotic, I’d become my own Iwa-chan.”

You smiled a bit before feeling your heart skip a beat.

“I like you so much I want to puke.”

You laughed, “That’s a strange way to put it.”

“Whatever it is that’s hardened your heart, watch me as I soften it.”

You felt Oikawa place a hand on your cheek, to which you leaned into; your mind suddenly quiet, your breath suddenly stolen, your feet suddenly swept.

“I’m sorry for hurting you, Oikawa-san,” You didn’t understand initially why he was just staring at you with a wicked grin, “I’m sorry for hurting you, T-Tooru-kun?”

Oikawa’s face reddened before he pumped a fist in the air.

“Don’t apologize.”

Immediately, Oikawa threw his hands around your waist, burying his head on your shoulder, smelling your hair. Your hands wound around his neck, pulling him closer. The whispers in your heart grew louder now, and inch by inch, you felt Tooru conquer it.

“I like you too…” Your voice was muffled against his shoulder. “I can’t believe this is happening—”

“I’ll make you believe,” He said, pulling away, your hand still in his. Pressing a soft kiss on your hand, “Because I’m not all that much of a catch, you’re in for a world of suffering.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Your fingers are entwined, neither of you noticing how hard your hearts were beating because of the other.

“What are the things you don’t like about me?”

You paused before pondering on Oikawa’s question. 

“I think it’s just one thing.”

Tooru felt his heart break at how you answered—he had literally bad-mouthed you before confessing, the guilt was going to eat him alive.

You giggled before saying, “You… You scare me.”

Oikawa leaned toward you before pressing a soft kiss on your temple. Your eyes widened before turning to him, his eyes glancing between your lips and your eyes, dangerously stuck around the middle.

“Get to know me and you’ll take off your rose-colored glasses too.”

Your eyes widened at his words before you felt Oikawa press a firm kiss to your lips, your entwined fingers tightening their grip on Oikawa’s. As your eyes closed, before returning the kiss, you couldn’t help but think,

_I can’t wait._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oikawa just hits different, yanno?


	6. all for you - iwaizumi hajime (soulmate AU)

You don’t remember exactly when it started, but you could pin it around your 9th birthday or something. 

It was the first time you discovered that your soulmate played volleyball. You never told your parents about it, considering how distant they were about everything. It wasn’t as if they were mean to you, it’s just that they gave you a feeling that they didn’t care, and maybe they didn’t? No one in the world knew you had a volleyball player as a soulmate and you had made the discovery only because your close friend was in the girl’s volleyball team. Seeing her palms red and bruised only led you to pin a similar feeling in your own palms, and there you had it.

You wondered what pain you were giving your soulmate in return. It’s true, you could feel what your soulmate was feeling—injuries more than anything else, but you weren’t an athlete. The most you ever felt with respect to pain were a few paper cuts here and there and they weren’t even painful to you, so you knew your existence didn’t even make a difference to your soulmate.

But damn, your soulmate never missed a day of practice. Eventually, as you grew, the stinging stopped—and you even read about what you can do to ease the numbness in your palms after a game. You bought an assortment of hand-creams and moisturized your skin every day, hoping that your soulmate would at least notice this effort from your end. However, you’d not know if they noticed unless they told you themselves but you don’t know if that’ll happen anytime soon. It wasn’t as if you’d given up finding them, there were other factors in your life that demanded more attention.

You hiss as you head to the washroom of your school, knowing that your soulmate must be practicing again. Heading inside the booth, you sit on the toilet seat and let out a breath. Your hands are shaking now, not only because of the pain but because of what was to come. 

“Check the stalls,” A voice sounded from the bathroom outside and your eyes widened. “She must be here.”

You never knew this was how your high school life would go. You never realized that being bullied could come down to such low levels. Not only did you agree to everything Junko asked you to do, but you never said a word in edgewise. Your eyes teared up, knowing that she was going to find you again, and do something again.

“Ah,” You heard her raspy voice, “ _This_ is where you are, (l/n)-chan!” 

A second later, you expected the door to fling open and for her to grab you by your collar and shake you with some nasty words. When the door didn’t open, your eyes widened. Looking up to the top of the booth, you quickly shut your eyes for what was to come. Junko had a bucket of water and she turned it around, the water completely soaking you—your uniform and your shoes. Only laughter could be heard after that, your whimpering form forgotten, and the last words you heard Junko say were,

“Just make sure you don’t score more than I do in anything, okay?”

You sat there for a second more before pressing your hands to your face and crying. You knew you didn’t deserve this, and you knew that there was nothing you could do. You couldn’t tell your parents, because not once in their life have they asked you how your day went or even if they loved you. You couldn’t tell your best friend because your school’s team was finally practicing for inter-high. 

What you didn’t notice was how suddenly the stinging had stopped. It was as if your soulmate had paused practice because they knew what was happening with you, and through their silence they were saying something you couldn’t understand. 

However, you didn’t notice it though.

*****

“Iwa-chan?” 

Oikawa blinked as Iwaizumi suddenly rushed to the side of the court, a nasty scowl on his face. The team stopped practice midway, but only Oikawa knew that this expression on Hajime meant that it was related to his soulmate. Hajime rarely spoke about his soulmate, if Oikawa was being honest, but there were some occasions where he’d let some details slip.

Like how sad they were almost all the time, or how Hajime would sometimes forget to moisturize his hands before he went to bed but would wake up to find fully moisturized hands either way. Oikawa used to tease him about how caring his soulmate was, but seeing a nasty look on Hajime didn’t rest too well.

“Is it them again?” 

Hajime nodded, before sighing. He couldn’t understand what it was, but it felt as if someone had poured a bucket of water on you, and you definitely weren’t ready for it. And since it was right after school, he knew only one plausible explanation was possible.

“They’re being bullied.” Hajime’s voice was low, but Oikawa caught what he said.

“That’s…” He didn’t know how to respond.

Hajime sighed before wondering if you were at least in his school. It was wishful thinking, seeing how the chances of that happening are very slim. Shaking his head, he stared into his palm before feeling helplessness rush into his system. How can you miss someone you don’t even know? This whole soulmate system was downright idiotic. 

As soon as practice was done, Oikawa and Iwaizumi were ready to leave instantly. They didn’t have a game coming, but the practice that day was particularly intense. Iwaizumi couldn’t stop thinking about the water incident, and only wondered how easy it’d have been if he’d already met you. You could tell him what was happening and he’d at least comfort you. Whoever you were, Hajime was sure that the problem to solve his own helplessness was to offer assistance to you, and seeing how that wasn’t happening was slowly ruining him.

He didn’t realize that he was drowning out Oikawa’s words in the subway that evening. Hajime was staring intensely into nothing, feeling bad for you, not knowing who you were. 

“Iwa-chan! Look!”

Iwaizumi blinked before turning around and looking at where Oikawa was pointing. There, in another cabin in the subway, stood you—soaked from top to bottom, clutching your bag in your hand, your (h/c) hair sticking to your head and your eyes staring at nothing. Hajime’s heart raced at the mere sight of how sad you looked, but swallowed your appearance in like you were going to be asked in the exams. Every cell in Hajime’s body was screaming that you were his happily ever after, and there you stood, only a few meters away, separated by an electric door. 

“Iwa-chan! You have to speak to her! She might be the—”

The train suddenly stopped, and Hajime’s eyes widened as you rushed to walk out. It wasn’t his stop yet, but he’d seen your uniform, he’d seen the color of your hair and the color of your eyes. He’d even seen the stop you’d get down at, exactly three stops before his own; he was tempted to run after you, but he knew he wasn’t the sort to recklessly jump out like that. Oikawa looked puzzled, but Iwaizumi had his own plans. He turned away, a soft smile on his lips, and thought of the next time he’d see her now that he had a face.

It was safe to say that Iwaizumi was instantly captivated. A hundred questions crowded in his mind. He wanted to know who you were, why you were there, if you liked sugar in your tea, had you climbed trees as a child. The flood of curiosity puzzled him. He usually managed to avoid caring about anyone long enough to ask questions about him. Iwaizumi wanted to laugh at how silly this all sounded in his head—he had heard of the impact soulmates have on each other upon meeting, but he hadn’t met you yet.

“Why’d you let her go?”

He couldn’t really answer Oikawa’s question that evening. He wasn’t sure. Some part of him knew you wanted to be left alone after today, but some part of him also wanted to go up to you and tell you that you’re not alone. Some part of him wanted to tell you of the impression you’ve left on him without even having met each other yet. You honestly had no idea of your impact. You were, safe to say, oblivious. That was the power you had over Hajime. Seeing you made him question what he was doing, what he wanted, what he desired, what he could do. Not just in the moment. But what he had been doing that lead him to this point, why he was there, in a crowded subway train, his hands dirty and sore from practice. Hajime’s whole life, he could not remember anyone’s name right away. Nothing had made a formative impact on him. But right then he thought that might change. 

If he knew your name, he would most definitely remember it. That’s what you did, even before he met you—you had changed things. There you were, preoccupied, bent down, oblivious, clutching your bag to your chest, feeling low after a terrible day. He knew you were the one. He was meant for you. He saw you, and right then, his life began.

*****

It wasn’t until you reached home did you feel it. 

A weird warmth despite how drenched you were. It was as if someone had wrapped a blanket over you. You paused before entering the shower to find how you weren’t catching a cold, how your hair was frictionless, how the apparent wetness all over you almost never happened.

 _Strange_ , you thought as you stared at your palms. _They aren’t stinging._

There was no possible way your soulmate knew you were drenched. No one had seen you exit your school, no one who knew you even saw you after that, so there was no way your soulmate knew what had happened. Maybe they were feeling cold? There was no possible way you could answer this. You left it aside thinking it was merely just coincidence and focused on the bath.

However, that wasn’t the last time. You noticed in the next couple of days that this person, whoever they were, was taking care of themselves a little harder than usual. Skin was perfectly moisturized, the practice sessions continued, but they would take more breaks than usual, and strangely, Mondays were a day off. 

Strangely, the bucket incident happened to you on a Monday too.

It couldn’t all be coincidences, right? You wanted to believe it wasn’t. You wanted to believe this person wanted to take care of you, just as you had been taking care of them silently. You gulped when you moisturized your fingers, pausing in between, blushing at random points, just thinking of this person who you haven’t met yet. You wanted to hope, you wanted to ensure that there was nothing wrong in wanting someone because all your life you’ve not had it. You’ve not had someone ask how your day went, you’ve not had someone notice when you wanted to be left alone. You wanted to believe it wasn’t a coincidence because what harm can come from it being one? You haven’t met them yet, and you have time to prepare yourself for the truth till then.

“(y/n)-chan!” Your friend pounced on you as you approached her that morning. 

Apparently your school girls’ volleyball team was playing against the girls’ team from Seijoh, and you knew your friend was excited. You’d agreed to go along with her to watch the game, secretly knowing everything there is to know about volleyball because of a certain someone. 

“You look pumped up.” You commented on your friend’s hyperactive nature.

“Seijoh’s a strong team. Apparently, the boys’ team is going to watch too! Have you even looked at Oikawa-san? He’s so dreamy~” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“What about your soulmate?”

“I don’t know who it is yet, so everyone’s eye candy.”

Your friend was very entertaining indeed. 

Seijoh’s volleyball court was huge, and you could see the girls practice from a distance. You had to go stand at the bleachers, waving at your friend as you headed up there alone. You blinked when you noticed a few boys to the other side, wondering if they were the boys team that your friend had mentioned. Suddenly, you thought of your soulmate—who normally would be practicing at this time, but strangely, they weren’t. Your hand wasn’t stinging, and you wondered what they were doing at the time.

When the game began, you felt someone watching you. You turned to the boys’ to your side and noticed that they were all intently watching the game, but there was a rather attractive brown haired individual who kept stealing glances from you. You cocked your eyebrow, wondering if something was on your face, but paid no heed to it. 

Suddenly, the ball went up in the air—causing your eyes to widen; the ball was coming closer to where you stood, so you went ahead and grabbed the ball—the impact slightly stinging your palm.

“(y/n)-chan! Nice catch!” 

You chuckled before throwing it back to your friend, suddenly feeling eyes on you once again. This time you turned with a curious gaze and found that same brown-haired male staring at you with admiration. 

“Is… Is something the matter?”

“Iwa-chan! She’s talking to me—”

“Shut up, Trashykawa!”

You blinked at the other individual, whose face seemed aggressive. His eyes met yours, only for a moment, before he turned away and cleared his throat, and this ‘Trashykawa’ giggled like a little girl while standing beside him. You turned to look at the game once more. 

Suddenly, your eyes widened when you felt a slight pressure against the palm of your right hand. The palm that grabbed the ball a second ago. Your heart began to beat quickly, and you stared at your palm—almost as if someone was applying pressure to the area to soothe the growing numbness. 

_No way._

You turned to your left and he was suddenly not there. Trashykawa was, and he eagerly pointed to the exit. You offered him a kind smile before hesitantly following after the brash looking individual, who had been secretly taking care of you so well the past few days. 

When you exited the gym and took the stairs down, you noticed this person walking ahead at a rather quick pace. 

“Excuse me!” you said, still holding your palm.

The person sighed before stopping at his tracks. He turned around and looked at you, and his heart caught in his throat again. This was certainly not how he was expecting to see you, not to mention how surprised he was to even see you at his school. You went over to him and stood there for a second longer, just a few steps away from him. You wanted to make sure first. 

You pinched your hand as hard as you could and saw him wince before snapping, “What the hell was that for?”

“So it _is_ you…” 

His eyes widened before he cleared his throat. He didn’t know what to say. 

“How… You took care of me all this while.” You said, tears filling your eyes.

“You started it.” 

“How did you know?”

Iwaizumi knew exactly what you were talking about. He looked into your eyes carefully, not spotting a single bit of sorrow in them now that they were facing you.

“I saw you in the train. Drenched from top to bottom. It… It was hard to see. I knew you were… I knew it was a difficult day for you.”

“Why didn’t you approach me?”

“I thought you needed space.” He said, shrugging.

Your eyes widened a tad bit. It was true. You _did_ need space. You weren’t sure how you would have responded that day, but he had been slowly taking care of you ever since. 

“Thank you…” 

Iwaizumi didn’t know what to say. He looked at you, smiling at him, and his heart couldn’t take it. You couldn’t keep from staring at him—so exotic was this creature before you, with chocolate brown eyes and a face you look lick candy off of. It was as if a door had opened and you had walked through it. Everything behind you had fallen into a deep abyss and you could never retrace your steps to that boy, the one with unruly hair and bruised palms. What solitude you had lived in. Your world expanded with this boy, here in Seijoh, and it was all very new looking. Then, realizing your intense staring, you were flooded with a newfound embarrassment and your eyes widened, your heart beating in big thumps.

“My name is Iwaizumi Hajime,” He said, noticing your embarrassment. “And you?”

“(l/n) (y/n).” Your voice was meek and you wanted to slap yourself.

Hajime smiled at you before taking a deep breath.

“If I touch you, there’s no backing out.”

You gulped. You nodded a second later. Your heart was going to jump out of your chest. You expected him to shake your hand or ruffle your hair. You least expected what came next.

Hajime wrapped one hand around your waist and pressed you to his chest, smelling your hair in the process. He wasn’t sure if you would mind, he wasn’t sure if you would push him away, but something in his heart told him that you needed a hug.

“I’m sorry if I overstep—”

You stopped his apology midway when you wrapped your hands around his waist. 

“Thank you, Iwaizumi-san.” 

It was strange; you felt like you knew him really well despite this being the first time you met him. You two had been taking care of each other so well for the past few months that there was no strangeness here. 

“I thought it was all a coincidence. That… that you had no—”

“It wasn’t. I was doing it for you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your grip on Hajime tightened. This man was your soulmate. Nothing else mattered. 

When Hajime pulled away, he gave you a sweet smile, a smile only meant for you. You returned the smile, not noticing your hand in his, the numbness spread across both your palms. 

“Next time anyone pours a bucket of water over your head—”

“I won’t sit around and take it, I promise.” You finished his sentence, almost knowing what he had to say.

Hajime nodded, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Or I’ll personally have to infiltrate your school. And I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You can’t miss practice.”

He chuckled at your comment.

“Yeah, I can’t miss practice.”

Slowly, you were going to know everything there was to know about Iwaizumi Hajime. And he was going to know everything about you. But, for a start, this wasn’t so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> iwa-chan, take me


	7. always you - tsukishima kei (college AU)

If someone would have told Tsukishima Kei that he would miss every single detail about Karasuno when he’d graduate, he’d have laughed at their face. He wasn’t sentimental, anyone who knew Tsukishima knew that he was one of the most practical people they’d ever meet, but here he was, standing beside a particular desk in his 3-4 classroom, staring at an inscription on it that reminded him of _you_.

The classroom is empty, and the silence echoes in his head constantly. It takes him only a second to think of how loud it would be if it were filled with people—it feels like just yesterday when this very classroom was bustling with joy and laughter, and here you’d sit, reading a book or trying to take a quick nap or doodling. 

Looking anywhere but at him.

He let out a breath before feeling his eyes burn, his fingers ghosting over the inscription on the desk. He thinks of your smile directed at him, your hair blowing in the wind, your laughter at something Yamaguchi said, and the way your eyes would glisten when you called out his name.

_Tsukki._

His heart was constricting with a familiar sort of pain, the very pain he felt when he broke up with you six months ago; he remembered how your eyes didn’t widen, how tired you looked, how you pressed your lips together, and just walked away. You must have expected it, the way things had been going in the last year. You had your own club activities, and Kei had his dedication to the volleyball club—yet, despite how understanding the both of you had been earlier, third year did not work out.

“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi’s voice broke him out of his stupor, before he pulled his hand away from the inscription. “Do you… Do you want to speak to her?”

He did. 

Oh, he missed you with every fiber of his being. He wanted to talk to you, he wanted to bury his fingers in your hair, touch your skin, kiss you till you became breathless and he wanted to see the blush settle on your face because of him. He wanted to apologize and scream at how stupid he was for letting you go, and all of this he had realized in six months of not being around you. People often said that first loves don’t last forever, but Kei wanted nothing more than to make things work with you.

No one understood him like you did; you took his snapping with a bulletproof shield and you were headstrong when he was letting himself feel weak. You didn’t punish him for being himself, instead, you embraced him for everything that came with him being who he was—even the bad parts.

“No.” 

But, he knew it was too late. He knew you were probably not even in school. Your medical entrance was not far away, and he knew how hard you were working for it. That’s what he loved most about you. On days when he thought he wasn’t paying much attention to you, he’d be one of the last things on your mind because you had a life of your own. He’d wonder if he was being a bad boyfriend by neglecting you for days, not texting you or calling you, but then he’d hear from Yamaguchi that your club activities kept you so busy that it was hard for you to initiate any contact as well.

And when you two did meet after a week of not talking, you’d embrace him with that calming, quite addictive smile and a soft hug before he pushed you away and made fun of you. He’d secretly do it just to see you pout, which he thought was adorable. 

And his heart would break when you’d apologize to him instead. _Tsukki, I’m sorry I was so busy_ , his eyes would widen, _The club needed me to finish the reports for the anthology we were preparing—_

He’d shut you up each time with a firm kiss. The loud beating of his heart meant that he liked you more than he let you know and he only wondered if that would ever bite him in the ass later. 

And it did.

*****

It had been seven months since he had last seen you. 

Tsukishima knew you were in Tohoku Medical University, and the last time he had seen you was near his own university, meeting with a bunch of girls. He didn’t approach you, quickly hid himself away at an angle that allowed him to look at you, while you couldn’t see him. You didn’t cut your hair, despite how he believed girls after a relationship would make some change; however, you looked exactly like he remembered, no changes.

Did that mean something? He couldn’t deny how he was feeling upon seeing you there, smiling and talking to people he didn’t know, and he ached for you. To see you was to be seduced by you, and he loved how feisty you were with him. 

You weren’t shy, you didn’t have a flat personality like most girls he had met. You were a dangerous combination of everything that could ruin him, personified in a form that always took his breath away. Only he could see you flustered, only his touches could make you sigh and gasp and breathless, and he’d have it no other way.

He yearned for a glimpse of you throughout the day, and only at nights he could see you, be with you. But, somehow, you would be gone when he woke up.

It was a week after that did Tsukishima even tell Yamaguchi that he had seen you, to which the blond got news that he perhaps, could have lived without.

“She’s dating someone.”

Tsukishima’s eyes widen at his friend’s words, who only looked a tad bit uncomfortable at how the blond was staring at him.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have brought it up—”

“Who is it?”

Yamaguchi gulped, unsure if he even had to say anymore. He knew how his friend felt about you, and throwing at him this sudden bit of information could damage him more than he already was. Clearly, Tsukishima Kei had not stopped yearning for you, despite the breakup, despite the gap, despite the almost one year of not being with you.

“It’s someone from her college… Her senpai, I think?”

But, there was no way Yamaguchi could ever lie to Kei. Tsukishima was grateful for the news, but the way it made him feel was not worth knowing the information. He felt a rock settle in between his lungs and every time he breathed he thought of you, and it hurt all the more than it did before. No matter how many deep breaths he took, Tsukishima could not let go of that rock. 

“It’s been long anyway,” He couldn’t even hear his own words, “Good for her.”

Yamaguchi was the one who could see the emotions plastered on his friend’s face, and his heart dropped at the mere sight. Of all the years he had known Tsukishima, he had never seen him so exposed, so vulnerable, and without you, he was just a mess. A walking body of high-functioning anxiety, Tsukishima Kei would rather let his demons devour him than reveal that a girl was making him feel so helpless.

But, that girl was _you_ —strength and beauty personified; there was no wonder that Kei fell so hard for you.

Yamaguchi still remembered that day clearly. The first time you two met, in final year of Junior High. Your relationship with Kei was as special as the one he shared with the blond, and even though you didn’t know him as long, it was just as strong, just as precious, and just as important.

In final year of Junior High, your grades suddenly skyrocketed and you were placed in his class—the teacher often comparing your grades with his own, two of the smartest people in class. Though, your smarts did not just come from you paying attention in class, it came from late-night work and intense studying on weekends. 

He had learned later on that you could not afford a cram school, so you would often cram by yourself, into ungodly hours on weekdays, and you’d come to class looking like a zombie and he’d snicker only to have you either ignore him or snap back.

Nevertheless, Kei grew to care for you and Yamaguchi noticed. He’d notice how Kei’s advances at making fun of you died down quite a bit afterward, and if he saw you struggling with something, he’d voluntarily walk over to you and offer to help you—surprising Yamaguchi, and himself in many ways, but what blew his mind was how you’d take his help despite the number of times you’d snapped at him, and you’d thank him, genuinely, making his heart feel full.

You’d started calling him _Tsukki_ by the end of that year, and you’d gotten into Karasuno as well. It was as if the three of you were destined now, and slowly, he realized he developed feelings for you.

And even then, it was you who asked him out. Your face was red, your hands were behind your back, hoping that he’d not see that you were practically shaking, and you were a bit scared that he’d make fun of you. The year had just started, and his practice was going to keep him busy, but you liked him. You liked everything about Tsukishima Kei starting from the teasing, the relentless sarcasm, and the unbridled dedication, which was only masked by his nonchalant demeanor. 

But, it surprised you when no teasing ensued. You could never forget the way he looked right then—red-faced, hand covering half his jaw, looking away from you like his life was on the line.

_“Y-Yeah, I know. You free this weekend?”_

Kei thought of you every single day after Yamaguchi told him you were dating someone else. He’d think of you with someone, laughing at their jokes, holding their hand, letting them smell your hair or watch you smile, get the chance to see your eyes glisten toward them.

His thoughts now weren’t even that innocent; on odd days, in the loneliness his apartment brought him, Tsukishima thought of you kissing the boy you were dating, having his hands roam all over you, having some man ravage you instead of him. All Tsukishima could do was wonder what it would be like to take your first, what it would feel like to have his hands roam all over you—his thoughts, while not innocent, reflected how utterly alone he felt. 

And when Tsukishima woke up every single morning, his mind would go crawling back to you with guilt over how dirty his thoughts were the previous night. 

That evening, after practice, Tsukishima noticed Yamaguchi approach him, waving his hands, flailing them from side to side. Tsukishima rolled his eyes at his friend, who merely smiled at the blond before they walked out of the gym together.

“What’s with you today?” 

Yamaguchi said, “She broke up with him.”

Tsukishima could not miss the way his heart skipped a beat at what Yamaguchi said. ‘She’ was automatically ‘you’, and that one vague sentence made so much sense to him that it had him thinking of how much you had him wrapped around your finger, without even knowing it. He turned to his friend, who merely nodded, and continued.

“Apparently, he was too clingy. They’re in med school, and she’s not free at all. Now more so than it was in high school, and her senpai kept nagging at her for not spending enough time with her and she called it off a few days ago.”

Tsukishima did not hide the smirk that sat on his lips. 

“She was always the individualistic type.” He commented, his voice low.

“Yeah,” Tadashi nodded, “She needs her space, that (y/n).”

Tsukishima was in a way glad that you considered Yamaguchi so close. Some part of his mind wondered if the reason you told Yamaguchi such intricate details of your life was because you wanted _him_ to know about you. Maybe, you knew Tadashi would ultimately tell Kei about everything, and maybe that was what you wanted.

“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi voiced, “I can’t do this anymore…”

His eyes widened at his friend’s sudden revelation.

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe, (y/n)-chan tells me these things hoping I’d not tell you. Maybe, she wants me to tell you, either way, this is exhausting. You still love her, and she… she’s still trying to wrap her head around whatever it is she’s feeling and I feel like I’m caught in the middle here.”

Tsukishima knew that he could feel this way, but there was no way he could allow himself to lose the one thing that linked him to you. That one thing being Yamaguchi. 

“Yama—”

“Tsukki, _please_.”

Kei turned away before pressing his lips into a thin line. He understands, but he doesn’t like it. Yamaguchi knows that his friend doesn’t appreciate it, but the fact that Tsukishima Kei would never wish for someone’s unhappiness over his selfish desires was what kept their friendship going. 

*****

Just as he was about to fall asleep that night, his phone rings. He’d not miss the number anywhere, his eyes were saucers as they were staring at your name on his phone screen, calling him at 1 a.m., almost as if you were used to calling him all these months.

His fingers ghost around the phone screen before deciding to pick the call, his heart rummaging in his chest the entire time.

“(y/n)?”

“Tsukki?”

In that one utterance, Tsukishima knew something was wrong. You weren’t yourself, there was something different, something that showcased that you were not entirely sane at that second. His stomach plummeted to the bottom when he realized what was actually going on.

“Are you… are you drunk?”

You let out a bitter laugh before scoffing, “No, _you’re_ drunk. Loser.”

He was suddenly very, very annoyed. He instantly got up, grabbing his jacket, checking the time once again before getting shocked once again at how careless you were being.

“Where the hell are you? I’m coming to get you—”

“I’m being followed, Tsukki.”

He could puke right now. In all his 20 years of life, he has never felt this scared. He felt the back of his eyelids burn, begging him to let himself cry, but if he had a breakdown it would only delay in getting to you. He needed to get you safe, he needed to ensure that you were within four walls, untouched, unscathed. 

“Where are you?”

“Inside a 7 Eleven… I think this is the one near Sendai?”

He knows where you are, but that doesn’t give him any sort of relief. 

“Stay there. Do you understand me? Stay right there, and don’t fucking hang up.”

He doesn’t even bother to take his wallet, Tsukishima bolts out of his apartment, locking it, running towards the particular store you were in. He spots you from outside, you were not dressed provocatively, a fact that he was grateful for, and rushed inside to grab you by your wrist. You instantly pulled away, before looking up and realizing it was Tsukishima. 

Your eyes widened at his sudden arrival before he noticed how flushed your face was. You were _so_ beautiful, it was breathtaking, but right now, all he could feel was unbridled anger.

“No one’s following you, (y/n). What the fuck is wrong with you? Why did you—”

“I was being paranoid? Man, I really need to sit down—”

“Who left you here?” Tsukishima asked, anger bubbling in his chest.

He pulled you out of the store before leading you to his apartment. Walking with you there would take you ten minutes easily, but this part he didn’t care. He was glad that you were safe, but he was still angry at how careless your actions were.

“My ex left me there. He wanted to talk about something, I think? But I just didn’t want to listen to him,” Kei looked at you from the side, his hand wrapped around your wrist, “I kept chugging one drink after another because I was just…”

He saw the eye bags under your eyes and he saw how dry your lips were. You were clearly dehydrated, and you looked devastatingly tired. Med school wasn’t a walk in the park, but seeing you like this, almost defeated, somehow reminded him of himself.

“…I was just so tired.”

Kei’s eyes did not leave your form. He was hyperaware that the two of you hadn’t reached home yet, and whatever conversation he was going to have with you, he understood that right now wasn’t the best time. You were intoxicated, and by the looks of it, you were probably not going to remember anything of what was happening at the moment. 

A few more minutes later, Tsukishima had dragged you into his apartment, and latched the door behind him. He was grateful that he didn’t need to share his space with anyone, which meant he could avoid idiotic questions like ‘who’s the girl?’ or ‘it’s so late in the night, though?’, because right then, all Tsukishima wanted was answers from you, whether you were in a drunken stupor or not. Handing you a large glass of water and glaring at you until you drank it, Kei forced you to sit on the edge of his bed and watched you keenly.

“Apparently senpai wanted to get back together,” You said, surprisingly sounding a lot less drunk. 

But, judging from your eyes and the way you were unable to focus on his unmoving form, which was right in front of you, he was certain that the alcohol was still in your system. Kei’s heart went out to how sad you actually looked, your light pink sweater was still neat, your jeans unstained, your hair tied in a messy bun—you weren’t dressed for drinks. It was perhaps either spontaneous or you were pushed to a point where you were so pissed off that drinking seemed the only way out.

“Did he… Did he do anything?”

Tsukishima felt stupid for even attempting to ask you this, but he calmed down when he saw you smile to yourself.

“No, I had pepper spray in my pocket.”

“Had?”

“I think I lost it now.”

Kei wanted to slap himself. You weren’t always like this. You weren’t someone who would resort to something so dangerous and reckless. He couldn’t help but think if this was in some way your method of coping, your method of healing from the breakup—was this your breakup formula, the inevitable course of action that you were supposed to take after he broke your heart?

“I ended up calling my other ex.” You laughed, somewhat bitterly, causing Tsukishima’s stomach to drop.

You were drunk, but you clearly knew who he was and where you were. You may have been a lightweight but somehow, he was impressed with how you were holding your liquor, Kei leaned down in front of you and just watched you, his eyes were surprisingly soft, his fingers dying to touch you—unafraid because he knew you would not remember these moments with him. 

“I don’t want to tell you anything I’ll regret in the morning,” You whispered, causing his eyes to widen.

“What does that mean?” He asked, desperately, inching closer to you, but being sure to not make you uncomfortable.

You shook your head before blinking away tears that threatened to come your way. Tsukishima gaped, breathless, at how even intoxicated, you were the single most breathtaking person he had ever laid his eyes on.

“Please sleep.” He said, standing up, and leaving you in his room. He wasn’t going to fit on the couch, but there was no other option. 

Even if his bed could fit the both of you, Kei would rather you sleep well and comfortably, than he would. Besides, he was sure that if he slept beside you (or even on the couch), he wouldn’t get to stay asleep for long either way.

When you wake up, you took a few seconds to bolt upwards, check your surroundings and then yourself. Your wallet, keys to your apartment, and your hair tie were on a table beside the bed, where a couple of aspirin and a water bottle was placed too. Getting up too fast was not good for you, your head spun around so sharply that you were inches away from puking.

“Where…?”

A moment later, you got up from the bed—after having taken the medicine and water, left there by god knows who, you inched your way to the living room of this strange person, wanting to thank them for sheltering you for the night. You felt shame hit your veins, you can’t believe you had done something like this—especially alone; and you could only wonder if a creep had sheltered you.

But, the person you saw on the couch was Tsukishima Kei, your ex-boyfriend from high school, struggling to stay asleep on the couch. Your heart broke at the sight of the tall boy, barely fitting into the couch, knowing full well that another step and he’ll wake up.

On odd days, you wondered why he broke up with you. On odd days, you missed him so much that you could cry. On days like today, your heart was barely fill and you were certain that a certain blond was the reason you craved doing reckless things—reckless because some part of you wished with all it had that he would come save you. He stirred awake, almost alerted by how you were just standing there, without making a sound. 

When his eyes met yours, he scoffed rudely—as expected—before sitting up, and leaning his head against the headrest. 

“Tsukishima—”

“I knew med students were crazy, but wow,” Your eyes widened at his words, “What the fuck, (l/n)?”

You had descended down to your last name with him, and the acknowledgment of it shattered your heart. You felt tears prick your eyes instantly, but you were not going to show any sort of weakness in front of him, not after last night—not after whatever could have happened.

“What happened last night?” You couldn’t bare the sound of your voice, at how groggy and hungover you sounded.

Tsukishima made it evident that he didn’t like it too, but chose to keep his words to himself.

“Nothing dirty happened, just you, throwing yourself into a depressing pit of alcohol drinking and embarrassing yourself.”

You frowned. There was no need for him to be plain mean about it. Sure, he had helped you, but that was it, right?

“Thanks for last night.” You wanted to ignore his words, you wanted to let it go and not fuel him into saying anything more. 

“I won’t be surprised if this happens again, you know? Judging from how you’ve turned out—”

“Tsukishima!” You snapped, causing him to wince at his own words.

He didn’t dare look at you. He knew he had crossed the line, he knew he had said something to deliberately hurt you, and that had hurt you, but facing you would _break_ him. What a coward, his mind scolded him, before he heard shuffling coming from where you stood. 

“You see, I’m not surprised,” You said, pressing your lips together. “You were always this bitter.”

Tsukishima could hear your voice break. _Way to go_ , he thought, _you made her cry again_. He gulped before attempting to turn to you, but he noticed that your back was facing him now—making him feel somewhat relieved, but scared at the same time. 

_I am so glad you’re okay_ , was what he wanted to say.

“No shit,” was what came out.

He noticed how your shoulders trembled now, as you reached down to grab your shoes. Tsukishima wanted to stand up and stop you, hold you in his embrace and beg for you to stay because if it were him, he’d not even dare give himself another chance—but you, you were forgiving and kind and gentle, all things that drove him up the wall yet made him fall so devastatingly in love with you.

 _Please don’t go_ , he wanted to say.

“Get out, (l/n),” was what came out.

You shook your head, “I can’t believe I’m like this because of _you_.”

Tsukishima felt the wind get knocked out of him, but before he could stop you before he could find answers or any sort of confirmation at what you said, before he could even think of what was going on, unfortunately for him, he was frozen to where he stood and was forced to watch you leave. 

He felt his fingers shake, and he looked down at his hands, which got blurrier and blurrier at each second, as he fought the urge to slap himself. Of course, he thought internally, if he was a mess of a human being, finding unhealthy coping mechanisms by trying to learn about what you were doing, stalking your social media, staring at pictures of you from Yamaguchi’s profile, reading his old chats with you, and everything that would perhaps never let him move on from you; then so were you.

He was the one who broke up with you, after all. If anything, you’d be the one in a much, much more difficult path. 

Tsukishima did not go to class that day, and he missed practice. His captain called him multiple times, to which he merely replied saying he had the stomach bug—his captain was a lot like Kageyama, but for some reason, even he understood the importance of an optimum immune system and told Tsukishima he had to take the day off, no issues from that. Yamaguchi inquired about his sudden absence, but he merely said ‘I’m tired’ to him and left it at that.

But, oh boy, he was trying to call you, alright. 

Tsukishima perhaps would have called you fifteen times in the last hour, with each of those calls ignored. After the barrage of calls, he left a barrage of messages, each asking you to pick up or call him back, suddenly forgetting the need to act as if he was high and mighty—no, if you were hurting as well, and he was hurting beyond belief, he had to fix it. A dialogue was the only thing that could put things back to normal, and hell be with Tsukishima keeping face. If this meant that he had to bow down and scream an apology, then so be it.

_Hey. Pick up._

_Hey. Call me._

_Please, call me back._

_Are you busy? Call me._

_I know you’re ignoring me, call me back._

_(y/n). Please. Call me._

_What if this was an emergency? Call me, (y/n)._

Tsukishima looked at his own messages and thought about what was wrong with him. After almost a year and a half of radio silence, here he was, literally begging for you to call him back after he had done something so fucking idiotic. He had a lot more to apologize for, he knew it, but he could only do so if you gave him that chance.

It was around 7 p.m. when you called back. 

“(y/n)—”

“I had lab time, Tsukishima. What do you want?”

You were busy. You were perhaps so busy you couldn’t check your phone. Of course, you were studying to become a doctor. You weren’t ignoring him. Somehow, this fact resonated well with his heart. Even your ‘what do you want’ sounded more tired than angry, and he could hear the lag in your voice to confirm the same.

“I need to talk to you—”

“Well, you made it clear that you didn’t want anything to do with me earlier today.”

“ _Please_ ,” He felt so out of character, but right then he didn’t care, “Let me see you.”

“I…” He heard you sigh deeply, “I can’t today, really. I missed lab work yesterday because… because of that stupid bar night, and now I have to make up for the lost time. I’ll probably be here studying all night.”

“Okay then.”

You were confused when he cut the call, but you assumed he was just tired of trying. You weren’t making an excuse; you stared at your phone, where just a moment ago your ex-boyfriend’s name was flashed up. You lick your lips and realize it’s been four hours since you had a sip of water. You clearly weren’t taking good care of yourself, and if Tsukishima was still with you, he’d reprimand you to no end.

Oh, you missed him. 

You missed how he’d scold you for these reckless things you’d do. He knew about your habit of never drinking water, just surviving on licking your lips and sipping water after meals here and there. He hated that bit about you and he made it his personal responsibility to ensure you drank at least a bottle of water whenever he was around. 

You missed the way he cared for you, so subtle yet loud—it resonated like his personality and you’d sometimes find yourself caring about your well-being because he cared; and even though the motivation here was incorrect, it brought the desired result regardless.

You missed him so much, it was like suddenly having lost a part of your body. It was as though you had lost an arm or leg but still instinctively reach out to feel your missing limb or try to walk again, placing your entire weight on something that was no longer there.

Swallowing the intense feelings you were experiencing, you buried yourself into the work you had ignored the previous evening and started to work. Medical school was exhausting even without the emotional baggage you managed to carry with you every single day.

What you expected would take you a couple of hours merely extended and you were in the lab till 2 a.m. Your eyelids were heavier than they had ever been before and you felt like your legs were jelly. You didn’t care about the way you looked right then, but you were certain that you looked half-dead. You couldn’t remember the last time you had eaten, and you noticed that the water bottle you had got for yourself earlier that day was still untouched. 

Sighing, you grab your things and prepared to trek all the way home. A simple walk would feel like a trek, your feet felt like they were bleeding from the soles. However, the second you stepped out through the hospital exit (the college exit was closed), your footsteps came to a halt.

Tsukishima sat there, by the bench near the parking and your heart skipped a beat. _What is he…?_

He noticed movement from the side of his view and spotted you there. He instantly stood up, before realizing that you were busy (once again), of how you poured your all into everything that you cared about. This only made him wonder how much you had poured yourself into him.

“What are you doing here?”

You sounded so tired, it was so strange. He had never heard you sound almost defeated—he took one good look at you then; chapped lips, dark circles, disheveled hair; he knew you were dehydrated, hungry, exhausted and you had not once thought of these things.

“I’m hungry.”

You blink and sigh, “Tsukishima, I’ve had a long—”

“Please, come with me.”

You’ve never heard him say please so many times in one day. Your heart is weak for him still, and you follow him to the nearest 7 Eleven. You were wearing your white coat, a purple full sleeved top and the same jeans you were last night. You looked to find him wearing exactly what he was wearing that morning when you saw him, the black full sleeve tee, brown jacket and blue jeans. No matter what he wore, he always managed to look so devastatingly beautiful. 

“Eat something.” 

You didn’t have the energy to argue with him, you bought a sandwich for yourself and he got some ramen (for some reason, he chose your favorite flavor), and the two of you went out to sit by a park bench, isolated from the world. Your apartment was merely a five-minute walk from where you were, but that didn’t matter right then.

“You obviously still like me.” He said, somehow his voice not condescending or witty.

“Obviously.” You admit because you were too tired to argue.

You heard him chuckle, but you were busy eating your sandwich, the bottle of water beside you suddenly looked like the most tempting thing in the world. What you missed was how Tsukishima’s hands were trembling as he linked them together in front of him, leaning forward on where he sat. 

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” You say, realizing the sandwich did nothing to quench your hunger.

“I know.” He sounded so defeated, before turning to you and handing you the cup ramen.

 _I knew he was going to do this_ , you thought, tears pricking your eyes. He bought your favorite flavor because he knew.

 _Tsukki_ , you took the cup ramen without hesitation, _you can’t do this to me._

“Why,” You stared at the cup ramen, “Why can’t you just tell me what’s on your mind?”

You heard no response from him. You took exactly two sips from the water bottle and dug into the cup ramen. But you stopped eating midway, shaking your head. 

“Kei,” You jumped to third-year high school again, “Please, I can’t… I will leave if you don’t stop me.”

There was no attempt made. You turned to see him staring at the ground, emotionlessly. You couldn’t decipher what you were feeling, but you certainly couldn’t try to decipher what he was feeling either. His silence left you breathless, all of a sudden you want to cry and scream, you wonder what you did wrong, you wonder what happened—why was he the way he was? Did you make him mistrust you in any way?

A sob exited your mouth, but your trembling lips capture the rest. 

However, Tsukishima Kei’s trembling hands raised to his face and he cried; your eyes widening at his sudden reveal. You quickly place the cup ramen to your side and turn to face him, your sweet boy, the boy you had so willingly given your heart to, crying his heart out, sobs ugly, tears streaking down his gorgeous face. The sight kills you.

“It’s so fucking hard to see you happy,”

You’re confused, but you knew he didn’t mean the words to their exact meaning. There had to be something else. He didn’t want you to be happy? What the fuck?

“And I’m not there…”

Ah.

“You… You don’t need me and that kills me…”

You were quick to kneel down in front of him, your fingers trembling, your knee was trembling, your legs quivering, but your heart was strong enough. All you needed right now was your heart.

“I don’t _need_ you,” Your voice was a whisper only he could hear. 

Kei rolled his eyes, and you noticed how wet they were from the crying. Your right hand wiped some of the tears from his face before you took a breath.

“But I want you. Always, _always_ you.”

It was Kei’s turn to meet your gaze. You were staring at him, a soft smile on your features.

Why was it that it was always you who would assure him when things were wrong? Why was it that you were always saving him? Either from a misunderstanding, a fight or most often, from himself?

He felt so weak when he was around you. He didn’t know if it was a curse or a blessing.

“No one compares to you. And as bad as that sounds, I couldn’t stop thinking of you, no matter who I’m with. No one compares to your brash, asshole self.”

You let out a giggle and notice how wide his eyes were. You want to kiss him, but you hold back.

“I love you so much, but it’s hard, Kei… It’s hard if you don’t give me a bit of an edge, you know?”

Your hand which was on his face, Kei suddenly took it and kissed the back of it, surprising you. 

“I love you,” He kisses it again, “I am so in love with you.”

You could only smile. You leaned forward, before pressing your lips to his; Tsukishima could feel how chapped your lips were, but that didn’t stop him from kissing you back fervently. His hand rushed to the side of your face, before pressing you to him, not hard enough that you fall down—he was painfully aware of how tired you were. He pulled away before pecking your lips a few times, kissing below your lower lip and staring at you, lovingly.

“All of this pain could have been avoided if you just accepted what you were feeling, you know that right?”

You were right. 

You were always right when it came to him, no one knew him as well as you did. You knew every inch of his soul because it belonged to you, and there was no taking back. And while he was aware that he had to work on some aspects of himself, Kei suddenly felt confident. Looking at you, kneeling in front of him like that, despite how tired you were, despite how shitty of a day it had been, he was sure that with you, he could do anything.

Suddenly, his mind traveled back to your desk in class 3-4, with the inscription that he could not stop touching back on the day of your graduation. 

**_kei + y/n_ **

A simple jumble of words. Enough to break his heart, or make it. He wondered if he’ll ever tell you he created a small forever for the both of you in that classroom.

 _Well_ , he thought, forcing you to drink water, _Maybe someday._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soft tsukki has me


	8. doki doki - hinata shoyo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sho-chan wa kawaii desu

It wasn’t always that you tended to act as if every crush you had was _the_ one. But, in third-year middle school, the captain of your school’s kendo club invariably did not hesitate before breaking your heart into pieces, because he “apparently” didn’t know who you were.

You rolled your eyes at the thought. Sure, you weren’t in the same class, but we were talking about love, here! It was after entering high school and developing a tiny crush on the dark haired setter, Kageyama Tobio, did you realize that the kendo club captain from your past did not even come close.

However, it took Kageyama just one sentence to make your illusion break. 

It hadn’t ever happened before, but perhaps, Kageyama was supposed to be a friend? You tilted your head in confusion, wondering what you were to do now; entering a high school with no crush seemed a tad bit less colorful than you had imagined earlier, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, was it? You were in Kageyama’s class, and this was where the crush had developed. He was handsome—not just any kind of handsome, he had the features of a sculpted god. His hair was silky smooth, his eyes were a glistening blue that could captivate any living soul that dared look into them, and his...

His smile?

_Huh_ , he doesn’t smile much now, does he?

You narrowed your eyes at the sudden revelation before noticing a smaller boy jump at Kageyama when the taller male pushed him aside as he entered the class. This boy had a bright orange head, softer features and amber eyes that you swore could melt gold. 

Your eyes were wide as they landed on this shorter boy, but there was something weird going on. You watched as he argued with Kageyama, repeatedly telling him he cheated (maybe they played a game?), you weren’t sure what it was about. It was after that did you notice that this boy was seated to your right, which caused you to blush at the thought that you barely paid attention to anyone but Kageyama even though it’s only been three days since high school started.

The next day, you spoke to Hinata Shoyo for the first time, whose only response to you was anything that a normal, shy high school boy would reply like if they didn’t have much experience talking to girls.

“Um,” You started, blinking at him, “Do you and Kageyama-kun know each other?”

You could see the visible distaste on Hinata’s face upon the mention of Kageyama’s name. You chuckled, it was almost cute—almost—at how Hinata reacted; there was clearly no actual hate here, but just a childlike rivalry that only had the potential to get better with time.

It was then Hinata started telling you more about himself, and day in and day out, you were looking forward to telling Hinata more about you. You wanted to tell him about the onigiri that you made the other day, over the weekend, and at how your pickled plums now matched the taste your mother brought to the table—it was an accomplishment, indeed! You wanted to tell him about that idiot kendo club captain back from middle school, and you wanted to tell him about Celti-chan, your calico that you had rescued as a child.

Not only did you want to tell Hinata Shoyo these random tidbits of information about yourself, you were excited to know that he had a sole player volleyball team in middle school, how he joined Karasuno for the middle giant legend, how he had never seen the Tokyo Tower (neither had you, but it was Shoyo’s moment right now, not yours), of how he had a baby sister who he adored to death but sometimes found annoying, of how he adored eating raw egg with rice, and of how he was probably more of a dog person than a cat boy.

And it happened so suddenly that you barely acknowledged it. You were walking home one evening with your friend, Tada-chan, who was talking about some guy she had a crush on in the second year college preparation course, and your eyes widened, your jaw dropped and you stilled—as if the revelation you just had was going to change your life.

You were in love with Hinata Shoyo, and it was easy to figure out. 

There was no movie like grand gesture here—he didn’t pick your school ribbon for you like the kendo club captain did, he didn’t offer you the last box of vanilla milk from the vending machine like Kageyama did; he was being himself, smiling at you day in and day out, being a tad bit selfish when it came to your ears and spoke your ear off about things that you thought you normally wouldn’t care about.

Your eyes teared up at the thought. Of all the boys you had crushes on before, Hinata Shoyo was the one person you didn’t mind giving your heart to. Something about this entire ordeal seemed so pure, it was perhaps Shoyo himself reflected such emotions in himself.

But, what happens when the boy you love is oblivious and obviously not in love with you?

You were an expert at falling for people, but what happens when you know the answer is a straight out no? What happens when... 

What happens when you don’t want the answer to be a no?

The first time you try telling Shoyo that you liked him came not too quickly after your revelation. You somehow sneak into their volleyball practice one day, Kageyama was the one who noticed you there, and asked you to come inside instead of stand near the door like a creep would. You, of course, wanted to whack his head but his non-smiling stature suddenly scared you, even though you knew he was just as awkward with girls as Shoyo was.

_Huh_ , you thought as your face reddened, _Shoyo... When did he become Shoyo to me?_

The first time you saw him play, your heart was thrown for a toss. You were familiar with basketball lingo, but here was a game you knew nothing about, a game you had barely seen being played before; and yet, when Hinata jumped to spike a ball, your heart flipped, your jaw dropped a tad bit more, and there were those annoying tears again, that threatened to spill revealing the extent of hopeless, one-sided feelings you felt for the purest person in the world.

You didn’t realize you were sporting a lovestruck smile at Hinata as you watched him from the bench, but it was when you were rudely called out by another douchebag that perhaps could effortlessly stomp you did you realize that you were staring.

You turned to this douchebag, taller than anyone you had ever met, look at you funnily.

“Do you like this chibi or something?” He was definitely mocking you. 

“What’s it to you?” You snapped back, face reddening at the embarrassment.

The male chuckled before placing a hand over his mouth as if he was ashamed to have figured it out. He turned away and looked at Hinata trying to spike, but falling backwards on his butt at the fail. You wanted to coo at how cute it was, but you felt a red hot gaze coming from the tall douchebag. You turned to him and glared again, only to have him chuckle some more.

“What a terrible pick!”

“Don’t be a jerk!”

“My, my... I never thought I’d see the day I meet someone dumber than that chibi!”

That singsong voice he had wanted to make you break something, but as annoying as he was, you were confused at how you weren’t denying your crush. With every boy that came before Hinata, you would hide away, nestle your feelings deep inside because you didn’t want them known—however, with this boy, it was strange...

It was as if you wanted him to know.

After the practice, Hinata and Kageyama introduced you to the team as a good friend and your heart was secretly swooning when Hinata’s shirt sleeve brushed against your shoulder by accident. You felt Tsukishima, you had learned his name now, throw a mocking laugh at your direction, which you chose to ignore.

As you were walking back home, you tugged on Hinata’s sleeve shyly before saying, “Your jumps were so amazing...”

You couldn’t believe how bashful you were being. If you had seen your friend Tada-chan in a similar state, you’d want to slap her.

“Ehh?” He rubbed the back of his head, “I’m not really that good yet!”

Your eyes widened at his words.

_Yet_.

It was as if he knew he was just going to get better. A soft smile sat on your lips as you felt yourself wanting that to be true. 

*****

The second time you tried telling Hinata Shoyo that you adored him was around the time the mid-terms were about to start. You weren’t all that great when it came to studying, but you weren’t as bad as Kageyama and Shoyo, that was for sure. Your weak subjects were math and chemistry, but you were good at English and other subjects were manageable.

And it so turned out that both Kageyama and Shoyo were bad at English. Your heart skipped a beat when Shoyo told you that Tsukishima turned them down in helping them.

_That jerk_ , you thought before frowning, but your heart felt light. Turning to Shoyo, your mouth opened, trying to tell him that you’d be more than willing to help him, but your insecurity kicked in. If he hadn’t asked you himself, then perhaps... 

Then maybe, he didn’t want you to teach him at all.

You noticed that he was talking about practice (again) but you turned away, feeling low all of a sudden. It wasn’t as if Hinata would notice a sudden, and not so obvious drop in your mood, after all. 

“(l/n)-chan?”

Your eyes widen and you turn to him, “Y-Yes?”

“You won’t mind if I ask you, right?”

_What?_

He was now looking at you with such a serious expression that it almost scared you. His eyes, you remembered the first thing you thought about them the first time you saw them. His eyes could melt gold. You felt your heart skip a beat when he tilted his head a bit before waiting for you to say something. You begged your mind to conjure something, anything, because this waiting period was killing you.

“Ask me what, Hinata-kun?”

Ask you what, exactly? What was he talking about? Was he asking you out? Why was your mind so desperate when it came to him? It wasn’t this way before; why is it that anything that happens for the first time ever is so utterly scary and so devastatingly intoxicating?

“To help me and Kageyama out. I don’t want to bother you.”

_You’re never a bother,_ you wanted to say, but even you knew how that sounded in your head. You offer him a smile, the kindest one you have, and giggle. _You’re so cute_ , you thought, _You think you bother me? You’re so cute._

Your eyes are threatening to tear up because well, sometimes purity is unexpected and it can shatter you.

“I don’t mind,” You say, sounding cool, after all. But only you could hear the way your heart was rummaging inside your chest, beating after Shoyo’s name.

When the three of you huddled in the library to study, you noticed that they were actually trying. You knew a fair amount of English because your brother had introduced you to English cartoons when you were a child; which meant your Japanese was a bit weak, but your English came without an accent. And right then, you wanted nothing more than to impress Shoyo with a meagre part of your background that had impressed no one before.

Hinata was sitting to your right, and Kageyama was in front of you two, and the book was placed somewhere near the middle, and you had to leverage by using your index finger to point at the book and ensure they were following.

Each time you said an English word and explained it to them, their eyes would widen and a very adorable ‘ohh’ exited Shoyo’s lips. His smell was intoxicating, your cheeks sported a constant blush and you weren’t sure if Kageyama noticed or not. And as much as you want to say that the teaching session went well, you desperately wanted one outcome from that day.

You wanted to get Shoyo’s number; and you planned on doing that by giving him yours first. 

That was how most things worked, you thought in your head. You give a boy your number and he would text back and thus, you’d have the boy’s number. It sounded so ridiculously simple in your head that a victory shout for this event meant that people were screaming in joy for something so utterly easy? You weren’t even sure if it was worth screaming in joy for!

“Hinata-kun,” Oh boy, your heart is rummaging again, “I can teach you whenever you’d like... just, email me?”

There. You had said it. You were still sometimes surprised at how vocal you were about your feelings for Hinata; it was strange for your first time being in love, but you wanting Hinata to know was definitely weird. You see him do that same face tilt that he always does when he’s confused and your heart coos at the mere sight, and you want to scream because it’s so goddamn cute.

But your face revealed nothing. You were a master at deception.

“I don’t have your email, though!”

Aha, yes, he doesn’t. Which is where your plan was being executed. So far, perfect, you thought in utter joy.

“Hinata _boke_!” Your eyes widen at Kageyama’s sudden shout, “You took my textbook!”

Hinata instantly frowned, “I don’t have your—”

He was checking it while he was intending on screaming at Kageyama more but turned out, it was Kageyama’s textbook that Hinata had.

The poor boy’s face turned purple before Kageyama grabbed the boy’s collar and pulled him so terrifyingly close that you believed you were going to be a widow.

You blushed. _No, no, no..._ You turned away, a very evident blush on your face, and cover your face in your hands. 

*****

The third time you tried telling Hinata that you liked him was by far the weirdest. You were watching them practice again, having been introduced to the entire team before, it was the third year heartthrob Sugawara that had invited you this time. You apologised to your heart saying that it was already taken by Hinata so Sugawara was off-limits. 

But, you didn’t really feel too bad since you entered the gym and Hinata stood there, waving at you with a large smile reserved _just_ for you. You wave back shyly, before noticing Tsukishima chuckle at you—which made you stomp all over to him and stab his side.

“For a chibi, you’re quite strong—”

You stabbed him again for calling you that before he winced.

“Call me that again and I’ll cut you in half, Shittyshima!”

What you were unaware of right then was Shoyo looking at your little interaction with Tsukishima. The boy was clearly aware of what envy meant, because as pure as his heart was, it was not capable of full-blown jealousy. Jealousy wasn’t just where you’d wish you were the other person; jealousy was wishing that the other person wasn’t there at all.

And right then, Shoyo came close to feeling jealous for the first time in his life.

“(l/n)-chan!”

Your heart melted at how Shoyo so easily called you from wherever he was now. He was initially very awkward with you, but you loved the progression. 

“Shoyo-kun, you... you can call me (y/n) if you like—”

“Alright, (y/n)-chan!” Hinata grinned at you and your eyes widened.

You clutched your chest and turned away, biting your lip and closing your eyes. You were sure that the brightness coming from Shoyo right then could burn you, you had to look away. 

You then hear chuckling. Your eyes instantly narrow, you turn around and stab Tsukishima in the side once more before the blond gave up and walked away, not wanting to get stabbed anymore.

Shoyo’s mouth opened and closed before he brought himself to ask,

“Ne, (y/n)-chan,” You smiled turning to him, “Do you like Tsukishima?”

At first, you didn’t register his question. Your smile slowly died before you focused on Shoyo’s intense gaze directly into your eyes. Your heart dropped and you suddenly felt conscious, your fingers sweaty and your hair? Was your hair alright? Were you bald? 

“Shoyo-kun, I—”

A second later, Hinata was forcefully pulled away by a certain black-haired setter who believed they were late for practice.

*****

The fourth time you were trying to tell Shoyo that you liked him, your feelings for him had increased tenfold, but your insecurity had also followed suit and increased tenfold. You never really found yourself to be an insecure person, but crushes tend to do that to you—especially if that crush happened to be one of the purest people in the world.

It was that evening, right after Hinata had asked you a very strong question about a douchebag of a blond. You were walking home with the entire team, some taking turns to head in different directions—scattering like the light and clouds above you. 

Your gaze was on Hinata, who was talking to NIshinoya-senpai about a receive apparently.

“Why don’t you just tell him?” 

You jumped at the sudden voice from your side and you noticed Tsukishima staring ahead. Your eyes narrowed but before you could say anything, 

“Look,” He sighed, “I don’t want to get between you or anything, but that idiot asked if I liked you.”

Your eyes widened.

“He did?”

Tsukishima shot you a look, “I obviously don’t,” You didn’t really bother, “So go tell him. Gestures won’t work on an airhead like him. You’re probably the first person who’s ever... I don’t know.”

You couldn’t believe Tsukishima was giving you love advice. Your lips form a soft smile before letting out a giggle.

“You aren’t all bad, are you?”

He merely walked away, not caring to respond. You walk over to Hinata and silently walk behind him, listening in on him talking to his senpai and the people around. He was just like the sun, it was enchanting. You couldn’t pull your eyes away from how he was. 

He was telling them about the little giant, about things he had already told you, and your heart constricted with the knowledge that hey, you knew him just a little better than anyone here. 

Crushes were really very silly, you thought, but the way it filled your heart was nothing close to silly. This was the most joy you had felt in your entire life, and even if it is something that could be easily replaced in the future, you were sure you would look back at now and think: Damn, those were happy times, indeed. Happy because here was Hinata, who made it so goddamn easy to be happy.

When the seniors were away and it was just you, Kageyama and Shoyo, you bit your lower lip as the air grew a tad bit awkward.

“You’re amazing, Shoyo-kun,” He had asked you to call him Shoyo just a few days ago, but it seemed so natural now, “Even now—”

“He’s just an idiot.” Kageyama said, scoffing.

You let out a sigh because sometimes, Kageyama really couldn’t read the situation.

“So do you like Tsukishima?” Kageyama asked, and you noticed how red Shoyo’s face got.

“D-Don’t ask it like that, stupid Kageyama!”

You blink a couple of times before frowning. You teared up once more at the mere thought that this boy couldn’t see the amount of feelings that was spilling out of you just then. Feelings you had for him.

_Gestures won’t work on an airhead like him._

You took a deep breath before clutching your arms at your side and exploding, “Shoyo-kun! You’re an idiot!”

Before Hinata’s eyes could widen as a response, you were out of there. You couldn’t meet his gaze, not right then. You knew he’d come after you eventually, maybe tomorrow or a few days after but right then, you wanted to be alone. You wanted to cry and wail over a heartbreak before it wasn’t a heartbreak.

Because you knew deep in your heart that Shoyo liked you back. 

It wasn’t just the insecurity telling you that he didn’t like you, you were certain just a few moments ago. But, Tsukishima had cleared any remaining doubt that you may have had. 

If Shoyo approached you, then you were willing to speak to him and tell him once again at how easily the orange-haired boy had captured your heart.

Who said he was bad at receives anyway?

*****

“Oi, Shoyo, you’re spacing out!”

Nishinoya’s voice rang in his ears. He turned and looked at his senpai before losing track of things again. Nishinoya felt a gust of wind hit the back of his neck before turning to Tanaka and asking him what was wrong.

“He’s staring at you.”

“I can see that, but why?”

Tanaka shrugged, “Did he see a ghost?”

“Asahi-san is over there—”

“Hinata!”

Hinata gulped before jumping on spot, “Y-Yes! Sorry!”

Tsukishima could literally vomit. Walking over to the boy, Tsukishima didn’t hesitate before slapping the back of his head, rather harshly. 

“She’s as blind as a bat,” Shoyo’s eyes widen, “Because she has eyes only for you.”

Shoyo’s heart was irrevocably gone. The boy wasn’t new to having a crush on someone; but for the first time ever, he wanted you all to himself—selfishly feeding on the desire that because he knew you liked cats and your nose would scrunch up a tad bit when you laughed or that you had mastered the recipe of pickled plums, that because you had chosen to tell him these mundane yet strangely fascinating things about yourself that you invariably thus belonged to him.

It wasn’t a possessive ‘you belong to me’ that rang in his mind; it was more of a ‘I’ll never leave you if you stay’ that resonated to the very core of his being.

That weekend, Shoyo named his heartbeat after you. 

Once practice was done, his legs found themselves carrying him to your residence. He knew where you lived, it was a path that was forged in the back of his mind—and he wasn’t going to regret it. He had felt fear back in his life, and he recalled a time when he thought that confessing to a girl would be one of the scariest episodes in his life; but here he was, eager and desperate to tell you how he felt because deep down, very, very deep down, he knew you liked him back.

Because why else will you tell him you could make good tasting pickled plums?

And why else did he tell you he liked raw egg on rice?

It was close to 7 p.m. when he reached your house. He knew your room, he didn’t know how, and he looked for the first thing that could give him an idea. he saw a few pebbles at the corner of the road before throwing it upwards, making sure to just make soft noises against your window. The window opened right away, and there you were—

Your hair was swaying in the wind that the open window brought.

Your eyes were widening at spotting Hinata Shoyo below.

Your lips were lush and pink because you drank enough water.

And your cheeks...

Hinata’s heart was beating fast.

Your cheeks were a heavy red.

He stood still for a second before opening his mouth again and saying the first thing that came to his mind. For a second, he couldn’t hear himself, but he saw you—your eyes and face contorted to a sweet smile, before your hand jumped to cover your jaw.

*

You knew you two were going to be late, but that didn’t matter. With his head resting on your lap like this, you thought you could take on the world. The feeling it gave you resembled nothing else, but the peace and quiet reminded you of the ocean at night.

Your fingers are buried in Shoyo’s hair, playing with the strands absentmindedly. You were humming, but it wasn’t loud, you could barely hear it. However, from the bottom of your eyes, you could sense Shoyo’s eyes burning a hole on your chin. His eyes were always intense—capable of melting gold.

“What?” You asked, chuckling. 

“The night I confessed to you? I realized that you tried doing it many times before.”

You laughed before looking at him, “You realized that just _now_? Wow, you’re an idiot.”

Shoyo chuckles before sitting up, his hand reaching the back of your head and pulling you forward, bringing you to kiss him squarely on the lips. You don’t hesitate, but your mind wanders back to the first time you kissed—at the end of your first year; how bad he was, how awkward he was, how he was just not ready... and now,

Now, Shoyo could kiss you for a second and knock the wind right out of you.

“I love you so much,” He said, pulling away and you felt your eyes tear up.

Oh, you were going to miss him so much.

The worst part was that he knew that you would. Without another word, Shoyo winds his hand into yours, pulled you to his lap without effort. Your eyes widen momentarily, but you accept his gesture. His hand winds around your waist before adjusting you to meet his eye. The empty classroom you were in did little to quell how loud your heart was beating right then.

Shoyo threw you a smile a second later that could very well break your heart.

“I’m going to come back and marry you, you know?”

You’re breathless at his words, you want to shake your head and tell him he’s an idiot. 

“Eh?” Was all you managed.

Hinata nods as if what he said was factual; he leans forward and kisses you on the nose once before resting his forehead against yours.

It was then you realized, you’d wait a decade for this boy if you had to. Your hands wind themselves around his neck and you smile, feeling content with his forehead pressing against yours.

“I love you, Sho-chan.”

Instantly, your mind travels to the idiotic sentence he blurted out three years ago, the night he confessed to you.

_“You make my heart go doki-doki, (y/n)-chan!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was a req on tumblr ya'll   
> also if you feel generous, I have a ko-fi too :3  
> https://ko-fi.com/iris762


	9. why don't you say so? - oikawa tooru

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings: talks of mental illnesses, bipolar disorder, Aspergers, self-harm;   
> the reader is diagnosed with bipolar disorder in this one

You would think that your mind goes on overdrive when something terrible is happening; but, things don’t work that way when your mind is broken. 

You’ve told yourself this repeatedly ever since you turned 13-years old. The age-old story of being different rang miles with you, you were not just different, you were practically convinced you were broken. Severely traumatized over a past that you hadn’t lived yet—it was your curse because you felt things too deeply, but had no outlet to show them.

Right now was no different, your parents who loved you in their own way were yelling at each other and all that rang in your head was a song from TikTok that went a little like asking someone very provocatively why they didn’t say so. While your parents were busy arguing about whose fault it was among them that drove you to a corner where you considered yourself broken, which thus resulted in you accidentally spilling your dinner all over the kitchen floor, your mind began analyzing the lyrics of a TikTok song.

_Why don’t you say so?_

“(y/n)! Clean that up, this instant!”

You wordlessly begin doing it, a scowl presenting itself on your face, but your mind is still reeling over this song that’s currently repeating in your head. It’s like a broken tape recorder, repeating that one line, over and over and over again; this is one of your mind’s new ways of punishing you. Throwing you things that you thought you liked, now ruining them forever. 

_Why don’t you say so?_

You prick your hand from a piece of your broken plate, but you smile instead because one of the lyrics of the song is,

_I get you hot and moaning_

You were paying attention to the cleaning, sure you were, you were also paying attention to the way your stomach was growling, the way your parents were yelling but the song was addictive, wasn’t it?

A second later, you sighed, picking up the pieces. It didn’t take long for you to clean the mess up, blurring the voice of your parents who were in equal parts broken because of their own volitions, the TikTok song slowly dying down within the confines of your mind. This ‘defense mechanism’ was something you noticed a few days ago, ever since your last episode.

It wasn’t anything brutal, your last episode was nearly not as bad as the ones you’ve had in the past. You snapped at a senior from school who yelled at you for spilling their drink—which was in every aspect, his fault for walking backward in the first place. He assumed you’d not yell at him or even reprimand him because he was a senpai, after all. Though, you did not work that way. You didn’t know, half the time, how you worked.

Ever since then, your facial expressions have been void. The medication wasn’t working, or that’s what your parents thought because you’d been secretly throwing them out every time you were supposed to take them; no one on earth could understand what those medications left you as—drowned you of emotion, made you feel less than human, left the edges of your fingers feeling numb and then there was your mind—howling, screaming for release. You’d rather be void and without emotion than be glazed with a fake set of feelings.

You really couldn’t get the TikTok song out of your head, though.

The following morning, you found yourself humming the tune, as you walked to school, as you removed your outdoor shoes and wore your indoor shoes—you just couldn’t stop. Perhaps, the fact that this song was repetitive gave you more of a reason to continue humming it, there were no extra lyrics for your mind to remember, just two sentences and a tune that was easily recognizable.

You could remember that episode of you snapping at your senior rather well—it was as if you were watching it, floating from above, the scene unfolds before your very eyes. You looked angry, angrier than you normally would be, sometimes your anger made you regret; it made you squirm inside your own skin but you couldn’t really stop it because you’d rather hurt someone else verbally than hurt yourself mentally, because you’ve been doing that almost all the damn time. Your therapist told you that displacement was a side-effect of you not tackling your own emotions, _but fuck that_ , you thought. You were projecting the hell out of everything you were feeling, so what your therapist says, with her sitting on a high horse, didn’t matter.

You could hear people whisper terrible things about you; and this is something that happens to a lot of misunderstood people. Unfortunately, they didn’t misunderstand you at all, actually. They saw you for how you were in a moment, but that was not who you were. 

Slipping into the indoor shoes, words exit your mouth almost effortlessly, 

“Didn’t even notice, no punches there to—”

“—roll with, you got to keep me focused, you want it, say so! Hey! I didn’t think I’d find someone who knew the English version.”

Your eyes widen uncharacteristically at the sound of the voice coming from your right. You turn to meet a student’s chest and then you raise your head to see a rather pretty looking senior with a shocked expression, looking right back at you.

“I didn’t think anyone would know.” You said, still blinking at this girlish looking male.

He rubs the back of his head and pouts a bit, “I’m cool, you know? Of course, I’d know!”

You deadpanned, “I don’t think knowing this song indicates if someone’s cool or not.”

You could see very visibly how his expression dropped. Whoever this senior was, he surely liked being told good things about himself. With the way his hair was set, you’d think he did it just to be complimented. He turned to you a second later and frowned rather playfully. You felt a bit odd, the feeling in your stomach returning, but you masked it like a pro.

“So you’re saying you’re not cool?” He grinned wickedly and for some reason you wanted to scream.

“I’m cool, but you might not be.”

 _This conversation fucking sucks_ , you thought but kept going at it because you strangely liked it.

“Ehhhhh!” He pouted, and you bit back a chuckle.

“Besides,” You took a step forward, “I don’t even know who you are.”

At this, his eyes widen a bit before falling back to their normal size. He looked a bit relieved, but there was a hint of recognition in his eye that indicated that maybe, just maybe, he knew who you were.

“Well, you’re the girl everyone says I shouldn’t talk to because you’re rude.”

You stare at him like he was made out of cardboard. 

“What?”

He laughed once before shaking his head, “What a bunch of lies though, because you’re sweet!”

That was the first time you met second-year, setter of the volleyball team in Aobajosai High School, Oikawa Tooru.

*****

It was like a plague, honestly. All you’ve wanted was a bunch of friends, a group you could call nakama, who could perhaps listen to you when you came up with a new plot for a story; or you’d hug someone as they cried over liking a girl or a boy, or you’d sit with them in silence as they read their books and you sketched. It could be anything, but you wanted people around you.

So it was ironic when you were termed as the people hater from the first year. 

If you closed your eyes, you could hear very clearly all the things people have said about you; they don’t actually have to be real, your mind would replicate them for you, or you’d do it yourself. It didn’t help that you knew you were unlikable, the anger bubbling in your heart over the mere thought of how you were judged for a mistake you never made. If the emotions in your head were just chemicals playing hockey, then how were you at fault?

In final year middle school, when Ami-chan said your picture was nice and you started crying because that was the first time someone had ever said something nice to you, she backed away, calling you weird. 

When Mori-kun bumped into your shoulder during your manic phase, and you snapped at him for taking too much space (but internally screaming a thousand apologies), he yelled back and called you a freak.

It didn’t help that Mori-kun and Ami-chan were in Aobajosai too.

So, you kept your distance. You watched as Mori-kun and Ami-chan made their own group of friends—how easy it was for them because they fit into a cardboard box of characteristics the world considered normal. You hated that word, yet your heart craved for it more than anything you had ever dreamed of. On odd days, self-pity rose till the edge of your neck and you’d vomit it as anger and regret, it would spill all over your hands and you’d use those very hands, those trembling hands, to scratch all over your notebook.

Nothing scared you more than unprepared social interactions, because they never go according to how you’ve prepared the interaction to go in your head. You begin to wonder if anyone actually prepares for regular conversation the way you would, with each passing day feeling like an exam—and you are never prepared for these tests and are always thrown off guard.

That’s what you end up thinking when your breathing suddenly increased in the middle of Japanese History. Your eyes widen and your hands were shaking—you knew what it was; an anxiety attack was choosing to say hello. You’d gone and overthought yourself into this, so you deserved it, you thought.

You stood up instantly, excusing yourself, before running out to the terrace.

“Does anyone want to go check up on (l/n)-chan?” You hear the teacher’s voice.

And you also hear the awkward silence that followed. No one wants to help you, no one would. Why would they help a freak out anyway?

Tears fill your eyes at the mere thought, your legs carrying you to the terrace effortlessly. You are so angry at this point that you don’t know what to do with it. You could very well punch someone, or the wall, or wallow in self-pity to make the feeling worse. This wasn’t your fault, none of this was, you knew—and yet, it felt like the world was collapsing on you.

You shut your eyes and bit your lip till you drew blood—the feeling being ever so unpleasant but the metallic taste suddenly calmed you down; it was something you knew you’d regret later, but temporary satisfaction eased your turbulent soul in the middle of school hour.

“Oi!”

Suddenly, someone’s arms are around you and you are pushed into someone’s chest; your eyes were still closed, the smell of this person’s perfume was filling your nostrils, and went till your brain—intoxicating you instantly. You’re crying now, your hand balling at this person’s uniform shirt and pressing your face into his chest, tighter and tighter.

A second later, you realize that this person is real. You push him away and frown, Oikawa-senpai’s features are worried, but you could care less.

“Why did you do that?!” You yell, at the top of your voice, “Who do you think you are!?”

Oikawa is just blinking at you—no sympathy in his glance, no emotion that you could recognize anyway.

“(l/n)-chan, do you even want to yell at me?” Your eyes widen at his question, “Or are you just overwhelmed?”

This left you a blinking mess of a cluster-fuck of emotions.

“Half the time Iwa-chan yells at me, I’m sure it’s because I did something stupid but I can tell when someone yells at me and doesn’t mean it,” You didn’t know why his words were resonating so deeply with you.

Oikawa’s expression calms when he says, “Your face… It’s written all over your face that all you need is a break.”

“Who are you?” The question was rapid, and it wasn’t what you wanted to ask.

He looked a bit hurt at the question, but the cocky smile rose to his cheeks.

“Oikawa Tooru, I’m the coolest person you’ll ever meet!”

You deadpan at him, which perhaps hurt him more.

“What’s wrong? Why are you here in the middle of a class?”

“I could ask you the same thing, senpai.” You counter because you were indeed curious.

His face reddened slightly before he turned away, “N-Not really important, it’s not like I fell asleep in class and was asked to get some fresh air.”

 _So that’s what happened_ , you thought. You wanted to smile at this, but you couldn’t. Your face was made of bricks.

“Now you tell me what’s wrong.”

You sighed, not knowing where to begin. You were sure that when you begin telling him, he’d make an excuse to leave and that’d be it. Maybe, you started to tell him about your problems because you expected him to leave.

“I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder as a child. I also have mild Aspergers’, my parents have been living a nightmare ever since I came into their lives. Obviously, I’m not happy about it either. Being misunderstood all the time isn’t ideal.”

Oikawa-senpai ruffles your hair a second later, confusing you. _He didn’t leave?_ You look up at him, smiling at you that same cocky smile that somehow didn’t anger you.

“Of course you’d think of a difficult situation as a problem,” his voice was low, and there was something deeply unnerving about the way he spoke to you.

But, at the same time, it was…attractive?

“What else is this?”

“Hm, I’d say they’re hurdles and the best thing you can do is jump over them.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, do you?” You frown at him.

Oikawa pouts playfully, “Yeah, maybe I don’t,” He doesn’t hesitate before pressing his pointer finger to your nose, “But _you_ do.”

_Eh?_

“You know what you’re feeling but what you’re doing is suppressing it because people won’t accept you, so… Stop doing that, maybe?”

_What are you saying?_

“If someone told me I couldn’t play volleyball anymore, I’d continue and prove them wrong!”

_Is he an idiot?_

“That’s what you need to do too, I think?” He said, taking away the finger from your nose.

“Do what?” You scoff, “Play volleyball?”

“As awesome as that would be, no, I meant… proving people wrong.”

_That’s…_

“Just don’t give a shit and see how funny the world is then.”

Both you and Oikawa hear the bell ring for lunch break right then and he continues smiling at you. You didn’t realize it, but Oikawa’s smile was one of those that forced you to reflect it back. You smiled back and you thought  
how incredible that was, that you could find the time to smile. There was goodness in the world still, even if you couldn’t always see it.

That evening, your therapist calls you. You stare at the caller ID, knowing what it was going to be about, but it had been weeks since you’d felt what you were feeling. Perhaps, Oikawa was right. Perhaps, he was right about how much you cared about wanting people around you—you cared way too much about what they thought of you that you had become a reflection of what they thought of you, instead of embracing you who may actually be.

Maybe, people aren’t around you because they’re also confused about your identity. Maybe, it begins with you needing to watch what happens when you allow yourself to not run.

Your therapist had once said, ‘self-acceptance is a battle that everyone fights.’ You weren’t fighting a battle if you were too busy ignoring it.

*****

The next afternoon, you felt eyes on you as you carried your lunch to the cafeteria. You made yourself a bento that morning; wanting to start small. you noticed eyes on you look away the second you turned back at them, but you forced yourself to look at your bento for distraction. It wasn’t easy, forcing your gaze elsewhere—and forcing Oikawa’s words into your head.

A part of you wanted to give up, a part of you wanted to let the screaming in again, and just as you were about to force yourself into recollecting the lyrics to that one TikTok song,

Oikawa sat in front of you. Welcoming confused gazes from everyone in the cafeteria, Oikawa didn’t really seem to care. Whatever gaze followed him turned out to be a gaze of admiration, and this—this decision of wanting to sit with the freak was also met with a strange appraisal.

“What the hell are you doing, senpai?” You grit your teeth.

You notice that Oikawa beckoned a friend of his to come to sit beside him, which his friend does wordlessly.

“Care to come watch practice today?”

“Practice?” your mind kept notice of how easily he changed the topic.

“Volleyball,” He took a bite of his food, “Iwa-chan, she can come right?”

This ‘Iwa-chan’ nodded, focusing solely on his food.

It was after that did you start attending these practice sessions, the captain being both of your senpai’s, but there was something oddly satisfying in watching Oikawa Tooru play volleyball. You never thought he could be as good as he was, but it also looked rough around the edges; it was not something he was born with, it was something he had sculpted for himself.

Forged in fire, Oikawa Tooru had every right to brag. 

The way he touched the ball, the way he set the ball, the way he’d try to keep his eyes focused on just one target—Oikawa Tooru had the knowledge that he was not perfect; however, that did not stop him. There could have been a horde of people telling Oikawa Tooru that he would never be where he is now, but he was. Perhaps, the words he had told you reflected a memory from within his mind, a memory that laid to rest insecurity that could have bubbled in his heart, which was trampled with the need to improve.

With the need to prove people wrong.

It was almost inspiring.

Oikawa took you and Iwa-chan to an ice-cream store after practice. You almost zoned out at the number of times he’s mentioned which middle school they were from, and about a particular dark-haired setter who could give Oikawa a run for his money but _noooo_ , Oikawa was definitely better because this Tobio person was nothing but dirt.

Not to mention—

“Don’t let him talk about Ushijima—”

“Don’t even start with bastard Ushiwaka!”

You blink a couple of times at how easily this seemingly perfect setter got riled up. If he was really that perfect, why would he need to try so hard?

It was after Iwa-chan left you two alone did you find yourself talking to Oikawa about your therapist. You never hated your therapist, but the sense of alienation you tended to feel within the confines of that room drove you to insanity. It wasn’t as if Oikawa understood what you were feeling, you were surprised that he was even listening to begin with.

“Your parents sign you up for therapy?”

You nodded, “I have bipolar disorder and Aspergers’, of course, they’d worry.”

“Then why are you running away from it?”

A part of you felt guilty, but what were you to do? Oikawa sighs before kicking a stone; it looked like he was deep in thought, and you were suddenly afraid.

“Senpai?”

“I’m trying to think of the best thing to say.”

Your eyes widen. _Think? Does he have to think before talking too?_

“Why?”

“Eh? What why? I don’t wanna sound like an idiot, (l/n)-chan!”

You didn’t know why you laughed at his statement, but you did. It was oddly satisfying.

*****

One day, many days after Oikawa had started calling you by your first name, he held your hand.

You freeze momentarily, but your hand easily fits within his and you hold it back—almost enjoying the warmth that it provided you. The two of you ignored Iwa-chan who was there, texting, as you were talking about some anime you watched the other night.

It was easy to get transfixed into a random conversation with Oikawa. It wasn’t as if he tried hard to distract you, it came as easily as breathing to him. All he had t do was smile at you, or wave at you, or even be in the same goddamn room as you, and you would be distracted.

The handholding continued for days after, something Iwa-chan obviously noticed now, but was too shy to bring up—or that he didn’t care, it was either one of those two emotions. You could feel Oikawa practically destroy any boundary with you, your shoulders touching as you walked beside one another, secretly holding hands whenever you met in the corridors, the obvious handholding as you two walk home—it was obvious that there was something festering there.

But, you were the only one; or that’s what you thought.

You were practically convinced that all Oikawa was doing was get you out of the slump you were in, and it was you—you were falling for the pretty brown haired setter because he was just too goddamn easy to fall for. Fear filled your lungs and you sometimes couldn’t breathe around Oikawa because of it. 

Each time he smiled at you, you wondered if it was pity or actual care.

When he waved at you, your mind practically told you that Iwa-chan was behind you.

When Oikawa did obvious things to display affection, your mind reprimanded you.

One day, it got too much. One day, you had suffered too much reality in a span of a few minutes; perhaps, it was because Oikawa looked very good that day, or you saw him practice and something snapped inside your mind—like a twig during the storm, it was meant to happen. It was that that the twig was weak, it was just that, that day, the storm was too strong.

So you stop. You eat lunch in the confines of your classroom; you come late to school and leave early. No more volleyball practices, no more handholding, no more vending machine secret smiles, no more Oikawa.

You believed the end of the semester would be uneventful, but unfortunately for you, Oikawa’s personality may resemble that of an anime character who is not smart anywhere else but the area he is talented in, but Oikawa was in the college preparatory class. The boy was smart.

It didn’t take him too long to corner you one day after school, before his practice began—malice ridden in his eyes as he pressed your back to the wall, confining you between his hands.

“What the hell?”

You’ve never heard him so…guttural before. It scared you. 

“People don’t like being kabe-donned, Oikawa-senpai.”

You believed he’d say something cool after how low his voice had been a second ago, but what he said was so _Oikawa_ of him that it made you want to slap your forehead for him.

“I… I know!”

You frown at him, because what the heck?

“Know what?”

“I know that you’re scared. I’m scared too, you know? Anyone would be if they’re falling in love!”

“You’re…” You gulp. “You’re falling in love with _me_?”

You couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t believe that _he_ was falling for _you_ , there was no possible way and even he knew you couldn’t believe it.

“(y/n), you…” He sighed before releasing you, running a hand through his hair, “I’ll live the rest of my life proving to you that I love you if I have to. And if you believe me for even a minute, I’d consider it a win.”

Your eyes widen at his words. Suddenly, you want to scream; you feel like your ears are filling with water, and you were drowning. Oikawa wasn’t in front of you, you were underwater, darkness swarming all around you.

“You want to try spiking?”

_Eh?_

You snap out of it and see Oikawa rubbing the back of his neck. You look like you’re about to explode. But Oikawa… Oikawa looks like he’s in a movie.

“I’ll set for you. Come spike a volleyball.”

“I’ve never played—”

“It’s okay, I’m a brilliant setter.”

You want to shake your head, but the way he’s smiling at you made it impossible to reject his attempt at helping you. Suddenly, you’re rising from the bottom of the ocean, swimming to the surface. You can see the sun from underwater, its light reflecting a bit far away. 

At least, you see the top.

The gym is empty, but you were sure that the players would swarm in at any moment. Oikawa picks up the ball before holding it in his hands, asking you to stand in front of him, a few feet away. You do as you’re told, not entirely wanting to spike a volleyball, but he was telling you and god, he’s so perfect that you want to try.

The first try failed miserably. You barely touched the ball and it went flying behind you. The second try was even worse. The third try had your fingertips touch the ball before it fell ahead of you. The fourth time, it fell to your left. Your mind is screaming at you to give up, but Oikawa is setting. He continues setting—one set after another after another after another.

The players still don’t pour into the gym and something about this seems suspicious.

“What about your practice—”

“Eh? I’m practicing right now.”

You frown at him, groaning. “What about the others?”

“Here’s another one!”

You missed that one. You miss the one after that too.

Tears fill your eyes, but Oikawa wasn’t stopping. You miss the next one. The tears leak from your eyes and your cheek feels wet. Anger and a feeling of worthlessness fill your heart, but you keep at it because he’s trying. You’re crying by the time Oikawa tosses to you for the twentieth time, but he doesn’t stop.

And what you believed would be your last spike, you scream. You scream from the bottom of your throat, and your hand slaps the ball, shooting it to the other side.

Your knees wobble and you collapse to the ground, your hands flying to your face, but Oikawa’s arms are strong around you. Your head is on his shoulder and you scream some more into his jacket, but he’s rubbing awkward circles on your back before rubbing his palm up and down, almost as if he doesn’t regret making you cry in the first place.

You feel your heart getting lighter the more your tears spill—it was like magic.

 _I see nothing but chaos_ , you think, smelling Oikawa’s perfume.

“What do you see?” Oikawa whispers, still rubbing your back.

“Chaos.” You repeat.

Oikawa gasps before pulling away slightly, “You give me so many opportunities to say something cheesy!”

You chuckle, wiping the tears away, “How can you possibly—”

“All I see is beauty in chaos—”

You slap his chest as he laughs heartily before you look up at him. There is honestly nothing more beautiful than the sight of his boy laughing as if he owned the world. 

_Well_ , you thought. _Maybe he does own the world._

“I’m so difficult, senpai.”

It doesn’t take long for him to press a kiss to your forehead after that. You felt him shaking his head, his grip on you tightening. You focus entirely on your position on the ground, and Oikawa’s strong arms snaking around you.

“That makes you amazing because you’re so breathtakingly real, it’s killing me.”

You don’t hold back when Oikawa kisses you on the lips, because maybe, your heart yearned for that affection. He gives it to you tenfold, the way his lips molded against yours, you were dead set on believing he was made just for you.

When he pulled away, “Maybe try spiking _me_ next time?”

“On the face right?”

“(y/n)-chan… You’re so mean!”

*****

Apparently, there was no practice that evening. The captain caught a cold, which he had given to three other people in the team. You chuckle at how well orchestrated this entire plan was. Your hand is in his as he walks you home that evening, nothing but gentle silence around you.

“So this like makes you my girlfriend right?”

“Only you’re bold enough to assume that without asking me.” You said, smirking.

“Eh?” You could see how his eyes widened to saucers, “But—”

You throw him a smile like you’d throw a dog a bone, and he stills. It’s almost as if he’s floored, Oikawa, at the sight of you smiling. He knew you were pretty, despite how many walls you had, but _fuck_ —you were gorgeous right then. 

You stick a tongue out at him and walk ahead, offering that very same smile that could one day end his life.

His hand slowly reaches to the left side of his chest, not ignoring the rapidity of the muscle that was threatening to stop moving because you were being so goddamn beautiful at that second. Right then, Oikawa wondered how much more you could kill him if he broke more of your walls—he wondered if he just had to continue being an idiot around you, and maybe that would work?

He’d do anything to see you the way you are right now.

 _Fuck, I love her,_ he thought before biting his lower lip. You wave at him now, a shy smile on your face as you do, and Oikawa clutches his chest in pain. _Agh_ , he shuts his eyes and curses you for being cute. 

And he’s suddenly thinking of a particular TikTok song again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oiks be doing that thing where he steals hearts and doesn't exist ya'll


	10. zenosyne - miya atsumu x reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I like breaking cocky anime men that I find attractive and giving them a lot of angst because I’m evil and how much I love Miya Atsumu is beyond comparison uwu  
> warnings: abusive households, alcoholic parent, angst to fluff

The average human being took 21 days to break a habit; but if that average human was Miya Atsumu, breaking the habit was as sporadic as the weather in Tokyo. He never liked Tokyo as much and found home within Hyogo, but his games had him move so much that it sometimes made him yearn for a place that no longer existed.

Miya Atsumu did not have habits that he wanted to forget. Unless that habit included staring into the stands, searching for you, it was harmless.

After their penultimate win for that season, the MSBY Black Jackals celebrated; the crowd was loud, the cheers were everywhere—Atsumu always hated the loud that came with the audience, but he tolerated it because _you_ would stand among them, waving at him, a large grin on your face, all directed at him. He’d raise his hand and hold it in the air for a couple of seconds, for you to see, and you would—before your grin only got wider. Atsumu would never admit what that sight made him feel, a sight that he believed he’d see for the rest of his life; but there he was, during their penultimate win that season, and you were not there.

It wasn’t even a force of habit, because his eyes never landed on the stands before. Or had they? Did Atsumu always do this? It had been over three weeks since permanently severing ties with you, and yet, his eyes kept traveling back there.

Three weeks—as long as it took to break a habit.

It was no breakup, Atsumu remembered very clearly how the phone conversation went. There was no verbal acceptance of the relationship ending, it was just one fact over another, and a misplaced goodbye from your end. You’d always managed to bag the good person card, and he didn’t mind giving it to you, either way. 

“Miya-san!”

Shoyo’s form created a disturbance in the blond’s mind—the shorter male’s hands were raised to give him a high-five, which Atsumu absentmindedly delivered. But his mind was elsewhere. They say absence was also a presence, on a metaphysical level, the absence of scorpions falling from the sky itself contains the absence. The moment the mind comprehends the absence of something, that something is perpetually present. It was inevitable to miss you because your absence screamed your presence louder. And he hated himself and hated you, too, for the ruin you’d made of each other. 

But, you would be there. During every single game.

Starting from high school to how his career passed in the Black Jackals, Miya Atsumu’s sassy girlfriend would be present in the stands, cheering quietly, chuckling at his misses, nervous at his slips, and ecstatic at his victories.

Miya Atsumu wouldn’t call you perfect, but he knew in all angles that you were. Once you let someone in, you were impossible to forget. There was something about you that crawled inside a person and built a nice comfy home there, your goodness expanding until it filled every limb. You were strangely relatable to an M&M, he thought. A reverse M&M, all sweet and smooth on the outside with a tough shell inside.

It went without saying that back in high school, he was a bit of a jerk; not just anyone would catch his eye. And if Miya Atsumu was dating just one girl from his third year till he finished university and entered a sports contract with the MSBY Black Jackals, you were truly something else. In high school, you were in a non-canon school band, you sang, played the guitar, and you were part of the track team. You scored well in studies, you wrote papers based on some research findings that he barely had any idea about—you were practically all over the place and it was hard to miss you.

Miya Atsumu wouldn’t call you perfect, but he knew he’d be an idiot if he used any other word to describe you. 

He loved every second of being with you because you wouldn’t make it easy for him. The second Atsumu felt like things were becoming stagnant, you’d either go missing or you’d throw at him a new challenge—you’d even fucking beat him at volleyball if you had to (thankfully, this never happened). You were constantly moving, leading the way, the complete opposite of what Atsumu thought most relationships would entitle with him around. it wasn’t that you tried hard to please him, no; it was that you were this way all this while, and Atsumu was just lucky.

You confessed to him first, serenading him in front of the entire volleyball team—throwing him for a toss and then laughing at his reaction of absolute surprise. It was as if he wasn’t allowed to be surprised at all, because there you were, pointing at his face and gawking, laughing till you had tears in your eyes.

_“What’s with that face, ‘Tsumu-Tsumu?”_

Oh, how you got on his nerves. 

After that incident, when the school walked around talking of how you’d humiliated Miya Atsumu by throwing a pretend confession, he’d known the truth. You’d never pull something like that without a base; he knew that your words and feelings were true, but he also knew that you’d not just stop there. So what if you liked him? That did not mean you were under his beck and call—and _god_ , that drove him crazy.

“ _Go be someone first, pretty boy,_ ” you’d said and he had no idea what the fuck you meant. 

As much as Atsumu loved back and forth flirting, with you, it just got frustrating because he knew that he was the one being thrown under a bus more than you were.

Two weeks went by with air flirting and tension-filled winks in the corridor, which thus forced the blond to physically drag you into the broom closet in Inarizaki’s volleyball club gym, and seduce you using the mere power of his lips, tongue, and hands. His words were a demand and that made you chuckle, that chuckle that made him want to simultaneously end your life or scream into the skies—he had no idea. But, you would never admit that the way he kissed you right then had stolen your words and the laugh was merely a shy response to maintain the cool demeanor you had so flawlessly carried out till then.

“Miya-san, is everything okay?” Shoyo’s voice alerted Atsumu when they were heading out of the stadium.

Atsumu ruffled the boy’s orange head before chuckling, “Ya just caught me a bit off guard there.”

It had nothing to do with Shoyo. He walked out with his team toward where the bus was, and a slight ringing sounded in the blond’s ear. He was aware that hearing a C minor in your ear constantly when no noise surrounded them was an indication of deafness, but right then, only your face kept flashing in his mind because you were the one who told him that.

You would tell him a lot of things, starting from random facts about volleyball players in Russia, to the way dolphins communicate, or even about the first man who climbed the tallest peak in the world.

But, Miya Atsumu never realized that you would never, ever speak about yourself. The attention was always directed either at him or the world, and it hurt Atsumu to even think of how he never even noticed that she remained invisible all throughout this time. it was as if she didn’t want to speak about herself like she was living a double life but there was no way Atsumu would know about it because he just never asked.

Dating Miya Atsumu, he realized, was like dating a narcissist; the only difference being, he genuinely cared for you but he wasn’t accustomed to think of others before himself. 

No one had told him it was a problem until Osamu had pointed it out, just days after breaking up with you. He was a walking box of angst waiting to spill onto the person who tried to help him, and there wasn’t anyway Atsumu could change unless the person came equipped. 

It was unfair, and strangely, close to impossible.

“You were looking at the stands.” Shoyo pointed out when they got into the bus.

Atsumu blinked before humming, wanting nothing more than to ignore this boy’s curious claims. But, Shoyo’s eyes were nothing like yours—your curiosity was directed at him at all times, but it was never demanding. 

Even if you weren’t the sort to direct any attention toward yourself, Atsumu didn’t want to think he was so bad that he wouldn’t have listened if you had just asked. If you had just told him, about anything at all that was bothering you, he’d downright throw everything aside and listen to you; but saying that now, after everything was broken, was rather easy and convenient, even his mind was telling him that these excuses were privileged.

You came with a stubbornness he hated in others but somehow grew to love in you. And that trait of yours prevented you from telling Atsumu anything about your life at all.

*****

The first time Miya Atsumu tried to break up with you, he wasn’t really thinking straight.

The relationship was moving in a steady pace, something he wasn’t used to with girls. You were busy with track, he was busy with volleyball—what he didn’t know back then was that you were busy with academics, track, your band, and a whole lot of other things he’d only learn of years later. But, the reason Atsumu chose to break up with you for the first time was because you were just never around.

You’d come to his every game; this went without saying, but you’d disappear right after. You’d reply to his messages hours after he’d sent them. You’d come to school earlier than anyone he knew, and he’d see you leave when his practice was about to end.

Communicating you became a task and Atsumu didn’t need to be responsible for that, and while this remained a good, solid reason to break up with you, he still never asked you if you were okay. If Atsumu could go back in time, he’d slap some sense into himself, but things passed in a way only to make him regret in the future—he had no say in it now.

He approached you one evening just before practice, noticed how your winter uniform clung to your skin, your face a bit red from the biting cold, your hands buried in your pockets. Atsumu wouldn’t miss the way his stomach flipped at your eyes sparkling to meet his.

_“What’s up, Tsumu?”_

_“Ya know... This ain’t workin’ out.”_

It was the first time he had seen you cry. While 17-year old Atsumu believed it was mainly because he tried breaking up with you, 23-year old Atsumu recalled the way your eyes were already red before he told you, of how there was a mild bruise under your left eye, how your hair was disheveled—and he remembered faintly hearing you tell him that you don’t get cold too easily, so the fact that your hands were shoved in your pockets meant that you were hiding something.

If only Atsumu had known back then.

_“H-Hey, (y/n)?”_

Just before you were about to tell him it’s alright and it was stupid of you to burst out crying like that, Atsumu’s arms wrapped around your considerably smaller frame and pulled you close.

_“We’ll work it out, yeah?”_

He was a tad bit annoyed that it didn’t go according to plan, but if he knew how much of a dick he was being back then, Miya Atsumu could have saved himself a great deal of hurt.

Pulling away, he noticed you’d already wiped your tears away. You smile at him, apologetically, invariably throwing his heart to the side, and take his hand in yours.

_“I’ll make it up to you.”_

And you did. You delivered each time and Miya Atsumu was always thrown for a toss. But, there was a gnawing feeling at the back of his throat, which Atsumu would only realize was guilt years later.

*****

The first time he finds out that your father was a drunk was when you make a dark joke about it. 

_I’d say that my dad is an alcohol enthusiast, not an alcoholic, per se._

The way you said it, it sounded hilarious to him right then. You were laughing, the boys around him were laughing—he should have judged from Osamu’s expression that one of your habits was to turn trauma into humor, but Atsumu ignored his twin brother’s expression and just focused on how intoxicatingly hilarious you were.

As he sat in the bus that was taking the MSB Black Jackals home, Miya Atsumu regretted laughing at that joke. 

If only. 

Those must be the saddest two words in the world, Miya Atsumu thought.

On some nights, he wonders if his heart would be filled with anything but this regret that was blinding him day in and day out. He had a bad case of the 3:00 am guilts; the ones when he’d simply just lie in bed awake and replay all those things he didn't do right. Because, as he knew, nothing solved insomnia like a nice warm glass of regret, depression, and self-loathing.

_“Yer a cool girl, aren’t ya?”_

_“Is that what you see me as, Tsumu-Tsumu?”_

He remembers chuckling, ignoring the fact that your eyes looked puffy.

_“Yer the coolest girl in the world to me, (y/n)-chan.”_

It was then, drowning in regret, while the bus moved him back to his hotel room, did Miya Astumu realize that living with heartbreak was easy if only it weren’t accompanied by regret.

He hates thinking of how you’d been so supportive, and how you’d still visit each of his games being a grad student, and yet—he was the one who went ahead and threw it all away. The itch in the back of his throat, the one that he felt for the first time back when he was trying to break up with you for the first time, was starting to grow. The itch was getting a bit difficult, Shoyo had to give him a bit of water, slap his back—and yet the itch didn’t subside.

_Tsumu-Tsumu, did you try breathing?_

Why was it so difficult to breathe with you absent? How dare you take his breath away and never, ever return it?

Some part of him wondered how hard you’d laugh at him if you saw him right then. He was the one who hurt you, he was the one that wronged you, yet, he was the one who broke up with you. If there was a class for disgusting people, Miya Atsumu topped that list effortlessly. It’s true, he never really cared about people disliking him but the thought of you greeting him with anything but a smile twisted his heart in painful ways.

When he was signed with the Black Jackals, Miya Atsumu thinks of breaking up with you for the second time.

He’d have to keep moving, which meant most of your relationship would be long-distance. He wasn’t sure if balancing a volleyball career and a relationship would get him where he wanted to be—so he decided he’d just end things with you before it got too serious. 

If only he’d understood back then that a three-year relationship was serious enough, Miya Atsumu would not have gotten drunk and would not have made out rather provocatively with a strange woman whose name or face he did not remember the next day.

The love he felt for you was a borderline comfort that he had drawn out during his high school days. Miya Atsumu pictured it to be the sort of love that is most evident when you’re around, supporting him, cheering for him in that quiet, endearing way that you do—but thinking that way was giving you way little credit for what it actually was. Loving you was building a time bomb for himself the second you were not there. Loving you was building the anticipation for your exit, which then brought in the tragic, dark, bone-crunching pain that only came because he had hurt you in so many ways that you’re now forced to push yourself away because he is clearly not good for you, and you clearly deserved better.

The first time he saw you ever since kissing someone else, Miya Atsumu took nearly three seconds to come clean. But it was after spilling the words ‘I cheated on you’ did he notice something that inevitably shattered his soul.

You had a bruise on your chin, your eyes are red, your skin dry, your hair looked terrible—you clearly were not having a good time. 

How could he have been so _blind_?

“(y/n), what happened—”

“Atsumu, you _what_?”

_Heh_ , he thought before his mind reminded him of his narcissism. How many times had he even asked you how _you_ were doing? What _you were_ doing? How many times had he bothered to ask _you_ if you were doing alright?

The answer devastated him.

“So, this is it then,” You said, and it was when you looked away did he find a splotch of red in the white of your eye.

His heart was rummaging in his chest. The gnawing feeling was back at the edge of his throat. He’s standing there, knowing something was clearly wrong with you, yet all he was acting out on was his own selfish desire of breaking up with you because the thought of continuing this and getting hurt later on was scaring him more.

Miya Atsumu was festering his own demise and he had no idea that he was doing it.

The expression in your eyes was as bitter as nightshade. Atsumu could feel his fingers shaking at how your lips were quivering right then, but you were doing everything you could to hold on. He could see now so clearly how your eyes were welling up with tears, but you chose fortitude over displaying emotions in front of him so you shoot him a smile and tilt your head the way you’d always done before—one of the reasons why he chose you in the first place.

“Tsumu, I hope you’re happy wherever you are,” All he wanted was to scream her name out loud, “That’s all I want.”

How much he hated you right then because every word you said you meant it.

*****

The night three weeks ago, he remembered getting back to his apartment and vomiting his guts out. Miya Atsumu released everything out into his commode, the contents of the food he ate the day before and perhaps that morning—tears stinging the corners of his eyes as he sat there, haphazardly, breathless and tired; hair disheveled but eyes constantly bringing your image to him again and again and again.

What’s done is done, he keeps telling himself, but fuck, why does it feel like he just killed someone?

He was so blinded by your apparent perfection that he didn't recognize the tremendous pain behind your work. You gave him hundreds of images, so many chances to see that you were in trouble. He had failed you.

Atsumu shut his eyes and felt someone tap his shoulder. Turning to his right, he noticed Shoyo, looking at him curiously.

“We’re reached, Miya-san. You look ill.”

The gnawing feeling at the back of his throat was growing. 

“Oh! And,” Shoyo grabbed something from the back of his pocket. Taking out his new cellphone, he displayed something to the blond, “Today’s the reunion!”

_Fuck_ , Atsumu thought before running a hand through his hair. It was too late to cancel, Osamu was already going. A part of his heart hoped you’d be there, but he knew that it was wishful thinking. 

“Did you have a highschool girlfriend, Miya-san?”

“Hm, yeah—”

_Her name was (y/n)._

Suddenly, Atsumu grabbed his bottle and chugged the water down, hoping the gagging feeling would subside. 

“Miya-san?”

“Yanno, I’ll see ya later, squirt.”

The reunion was placed in a dingy looking bar, only because it was the closest to the university. Atsumu chuckled when he saw Osamu sitting at the corner, looking annoyed. Waving at his brother, Atsumu walked over to sit beside him, in absolute silence, before hearing Osamu click his tongue.

“You smell disgustin’.”

“Nice to see ya too, Samu. I just had a game—”

“Couldn’tya shower?” Osamu sighed, running a hand through his hair.

It didn’t take long for Atsumu to bring you up.

“She ain’t here,” Osamu said, rolling his eyes, “Head from ‘er friend, Sakura something, that ‘er life is practically shit.”

Atsumu wasn’t too surprised to hear this, but there it was again, the gagging feeling at the back of his throat.

“Didja even know ‘er father used to drink, Tsumu?”

He did. He knew. 

“So fuckin’ self-centered,” He heard his twin whisper to himself. “Tis a surprise to me that she was even with ya for so long.”

He knew. Yet, he never once addressed it. Never once asked you how you were. Never once bothered to allow himself to know; it was as if he was comfortable being praised within the bubble you had created for him, sheltering him from your nasty background. Only now when he thought about it did he realize how terrible he was, as a friend, as a boyfriend, as a lover—he had failed to be a decent human being to you.

“O’er there’s Sakura something,” Osamu said, pointing to a girl Atsumu remembered would always stick by your side. “She was in the track team with (y/n).”

Atsumu normally would have stayed away; maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the deep mourning he had been feeling from the past few weeks, but in actuality, it was the gnawing feeling that was threatening to spill, it was killing him.

“Sakura-chan, it’s been a while.”

The way this girl sent a glare to Atsumu’s direction almost made him laugh.

“Let me guess, you want to know about (y/n).”

“Was it that obvious?” Atsumu rubbed the back of his head.

Sakura sighed, “Listen, I ain’t tellin’ you shit because you asked. I’m tellin’ you because it’ll do her good to see someone right now and it might as well be you because it clearly won’t be anyone else.”

What the hell does that mean? 

“A month ago, (y/n)’s father left them,” Atsumu’s eyes widen, “She had to almost quit college, but her mum found a job at a convenience store. But, (y/n) moved out of her dorm and lives at home now, saving up on the grad school money and helping out.”

“Her father... He...” 

“Listen,” Sakura snapped, clicking her tongue, “I ain’t tellin’ you no more of this. Go see her or don’t, she doesn’t _need_ you. God knows you ain’t good for her.”

Atsumu almost nodded at the girl’s statement. 

“She told you nothin’ because well, did ya ever ask?”

He goes back to his room after that shit-fest of a reunion, Osamu patting his shoulder a couple of times before making a move. Once he was back, Atsumu instantly broke down—the tears stinging his eyes as they fell, it was as if his tears were made of acid because it had been that long since he had cried for anything.

His hands were shaking, and he needed to do something to stop them from shaking—the feeling was intense and he hated every second of it. Throwing a nasty punch to the wall, Atsumu’s hands were bruised instantly before he realized he was a pro-volleyball player. Heading to the sink, he placed his hands under the running water and breathed, noting that his breath was hitching. He looked out into the water and just stared. Closing his eyes, Atsumu’s legs found themselves dragging him to every corner of his hotel room—finding an inch that could comfort him that night. He settled for the balcony, under the stars, where he found himself begging the sparkling lanterns of light to cure him of himself—his past and the kaleidoscope of mistakes, failures and wrong turns that have stacked unbearable regret upon his shoulders.

*****

**Th** e loss of their final game of the season did not hit him as hard as it would otherwise have. In the dressing room, he felt his phone buzz and his heart jumped out of his ribcage at the name that had popped up on his phone. 

**(y/n):** _Jump set, back set, one set, two set, if setting were easy, they might let you set!_

It takes Miya Atsumu less than a few seconds to call you. 

“Tsumu? Is everything okay?”

“Where are you?” It was eerie that you were whispering, but it was even eerier that he didn’t know where you were.

He always knew; it felt so strange.

“I’m at work, actually—”

_At work? Aren’t you a grad student?_ He wanted to ask, but words refused to slip out of him right then. The silence stretched out, heartbeat after heartbeat – taut, excruciating. And then, finally, came the first sound: 

“I want to see you.”

His voice betrayed him; he didn’t sound like himself, but here he was, stretching out far and thin by a person who made zero effort in ruining him but had invariably managed to do so.

It takes Atsumu even less time to book a cab and head to your location. What surprises him is that it’s the very same convenience store that your mother supposedly works at, but why did you say you were working there? Atsumu’s sudden curiosity over your wellbeing, over your life, threw him for a toss. This was not how things were, but this was how things were supposed to be.

And there you were, standing outside the door, hands in your pockets, the green uniform of the convenience store over your clothes.

You stood there, in all your candid glory, confident, yet shy, and angel-like. Your (h/c) hair always seemed to capture whatever available light there was, and your skin, much to Atsumu’s annoyance, was flawless. Today you were wearing a black turtleneck that accentuated every curve and your jeans were structured in a way that they made sure they highlighted the best part of your legs. You had a thick aura of battle around you, and your face was almost doll-like, it was so pleasant to look at.

“Ya work here?” Atsumu wasn’t grinning, you felt odd.

Blinking, “Mum’s a bit tired so I’m covering her shift. Are you—”

“Why didn’t ya come to the reunion?”

“I had to submit a paper earlier today. Sorry, I’d have loved to see everyone!”

Your cheerfulness kills him, and he only hopes it doesn’t show. But, he takes a good long look at you. Yes, you’re just as beautiful—but you have dark circles around your eyes now. You’ve lost a bit of weight. You’ve lost that spark in your eye.

Clearly, you were having a difficult time. Miya Atsumu finds that his heart is breaking at the revelation.

“Tsumu, are you okay?”

_Fucking hell._

“Stop.”

Your eyes widen, “Eh?”

“How am _I_? How are _you_?! Tell me what’s wrong, (y/n)! Tell me what’s happenin’ with _you_ , I never... I never asked ya so ya never tell me? Am I really that fucked up of a guy? That ya can’t... I loved ya, (y/n), I still... Damn it! I fucked up, okay? I fucked up big time! (y/n)—”

You walk over to him and pat his head, but Atsumu instantly slaps your hand away. You shoot him a glare before patting his head once more and pulling him down forcefully, his head on your shoulder, breathing into it. 

“Dad left us,” Atsumu freezes at your words. “He used to drink. He’d throw things sometimes. He didn’t really hit anyone until we’d go over to stop him—”

“That’s fuckin’ horrible—”

“He had his own issues.”

Atsumu pulls away before cursing, “Stop bein’ so fuckin’ understandin’ all the damn time!”

You find yourself giggling at his actions. 

“It’s okay now.” You said, giving him a kind smile.

Atsumu shakes his head, “It’s not. It’s not okay, (y/n). What the fuck—Why... Why were you even with someone like me? What the hell is wrong with ya?”

He could see how the anger built up in your eyes, but he wasn’t finished.

“You’re so fucking... _perfect_ ,” He rubs a hand over his face in frustration, “Grad student, supporting yer mom, you... you came to every single game o’ mine. Every single game, damn it... I never knew ‘cause you barely showed any signs, but why... Why the fuck were ya with someone like me—”

“Tsumu... You kept me alive, you know?” He refused to believe it. “When I was with you, I could forget things from my life that would have otherwise destroyed me. I grew to love you because of how passionate you were and that passion blinded me,” You went ahead and held his hands in yours, not ignoring the freshly formed bruise on his knuckles. 

“I was with you as a choice, Tsumu, and I’d choose you every single fucking time. I wasn’t with you because i had nowhere to go. Don’t ever think that, okay? Because I can very well live fine by myself! I chose to be with you because I love you and I’ll do anything for the people I love,” 

He had never seen this face of yours. It was enchanting.

“And I get it, people say choose yourself over boys, but maybe, choosing you was what kept me healthy, because _look_ at me, Tsumu,” You point to yourself, tears leaking out of your eyes, “Take a good long look!”

Miya Atsumu’s eyes widen. You’re so tired, it’s as bright as day now. The spark in your eye almost gone.

“Loving you helped me, and I’m not saying that your self-centered assholery is toxic, no. Yeah, sure, it _can_ be toxic, but I needed it at the time. I... I am not perfect, Tsumu. I’m so far from perfect that it’ll knock your socks off!”

You were rambling now and he remembered that trait of yours—a rare aspect from his past; you’d ramble when you got nervous, your hands flailing cutely in front of you, tracing invisible lines in the air as you tried to narrow down your words. Atsumu’s gaze softens, as he lets you.

“P-Perfection doesn’t come from someone hiding their pain well, it’s... it’s dark and gritty and bloody and sweaty because it’s so fucking hard—” Your voice breaks in the end.

Atsumu doesn’t waste time in pulling you to his chest, shushing you and kissing your cheeks in the next minute; he holds your face like you are the most precious thing ever. 

He takes a breath before asking you something he was afraid to, “I cheated on you, didn’t you get mad?”

You nod, “I got hella mad, I’m still a bit mad, of course! Hey, just because I’m madly in love with you doesn’t make me a doormat, yanno?” You fumble.

Atsumu notices how red your face is now, and he smiles. A genuine smile—one that you hadn’t seen on Atsumu in so, so long. Your hand is in his and he bends to your level, his forehead on your shoulder, and it first comes out as a whisper,

“I’m so sorry, (y/n).”

Your eyes widen slowly.

“I’m so sorry, I love you so much. I’m sorry—”

A second later, you wind your hands around him, hugging him, and it shushes him. 

You don’t hesitate, “You gotta make it up to me, you know?”

Atsumu smiles so warmly as he wipes the tears off your eyes, nodding. His hand glides down your arm, folds over your hand. His fingers lace with yours, palms kissing. You could feel the fast thud of his heart through this single touch.

“I’ll do that for the rest of my life, (y/n).”

You make a disgusted face a second later, “Stop being so sappy, Tsumu, _ewwww_.”

Your hands grasp his collar and bring him down to your level, as you plant a kiss him on his lips. Atsumu kisses back but you could feel the hesitation in his bones, and it annoys you. You pull away, and say the one thing Atsumu has been dying to prove to you.

“Kiss me like you missed me, Atsumu.”

They say a kiss is a secret that takes the lips for the ear. When Atsumu kisses you right then, he could have been whispering the secrets of the universe to you, but you didn’t care. His mouth came down on yours. And that was it. All the self-control he’d exerted over the past weeks went, like water crashing through a broken dam. Your arms came up around his neck and he pulled you against him. His hands flattened against your back, and you were up on the tips of your toes, kissing him as fiercely as he was kissing you. He clung to you more tightly, knotting his hands in your hair, trying to tell you, with the press of his mouth on yours, all the things he could never say out loud. 

“I love you so much, Miya Atsumu,” You say, your hands on his cheek, “I’m sorry for not opening up to you.”

With a shake of his head, “I’ll never let ya go, (y/n).” 

At that second, neither of you realize that Miya Atsumu would never look at another; the gagging in his throat was gone, replaced with the need to constantly wonder about you—a need to have you by his side permanently. Perhaps, this was growth. One would never know. But, whatever it was, Miya Atsumu was glad that he had found a habit he didn’t ever have to break anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tsumu can break me and i'd let him tbh
> 
> If you're feeling generous, you can support me by buying me a coffee here: https://ko-fi.com/iris762


	11. is that how it's supposed to go? — tendou satori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tendou is baby and quite practically can't write angst for him

Sometimes, things got a bit too much for Tendou Satori.

It wasn’t unusual for him to cry about not having friends, but he didn’t cry where tears were shed. Tendou often just muffled his emotions, rather than expressing them—because what was the point, after all? Being named ‘Satori’ brought in a lot of hate, and he was growing to hate his own name because of it. It was the sort of feeling that left him wanting for some sort of approval from others, even though his parents often told him that he had to give himself that approval first.

But, how could he?

Just as he walked out of his house’s gate, his eyes flashed to a large truck three houses down. He blinked before tilting his head a bit, blowing his hair away from his eyes. There was a man and a woman, taking out things from the back of the truck, and that was the first time Tendou laid his eyes on you.

You were crying, holding on to a doll in your hands; your grip on the inanimate object was rather tight, but Tendou could sense how deep your emotions were. He often felt that way, even though he never openly cried, but watching you cry there, loudly—your cries echoing across the area, sent a tinge to his heart that felt rather odd. He felt like crying because you were crying, and it was odd because he had never seen you before. The woman, he assumed was your mother, turned to you and patted your head before kneeling down to your level and saying some words of assurance.

Tendou gulped before walking away; he was getting late to school anyway. It was his final year of elementary school. Most of his classmates hated him, so there was no hidden excitement lodged in his heart right then to even go to school. Letting out a dramatic sigh, he walked to school, feeling lonely and small, and wondered how much longer he had to feel this way.

Upon reaching his class, he quietly sat to the seat that was assigned to him, which wasn’t by the window or the corner. He was somewhere in the middle, the second column, and the seat to his left was empty. No one wanted to sit beside him, an understandable fact, but it pained his heart to live with it as a fact. When the teacher arrived, Tendou didn’t look up. There was no point to giving the day any more attention than it deserved; after all, each day was the same.

“Class,” The teacher announced, “We have a new classmate joining us today!”

_Great_ , he thought before pouting a bit, _Another one to the list to call me monster_. Tendou didn’t dare look up at his future possible assailant, and he wasn’t planning on moving an inch till the class ended.

“Why don’t you introduce yourself to us?” The teacher whispered.

“I...” The person sniffed, clearly crying, which made Tendou pause for a second, “My name...” 

Slowly, the class was filled with snickers—people were giggling at this new person who was crying whilst introducing themselves. Tendou looked up and his heart sped up when he spotted you—the very same girl that had been crying earlier in the morning today. You were wearing his school’s uniform and your hair had been neatly combed to stay away from your face. However, you looked devastated; almost as if you didn’t want to be here. He noticed that your lips were quivering, and he felt utterly miserable that the class wasn’t even trying to understand your predicament. 

What was so funny while you were standing there crying?

When the laughter in class increased, Tendou frowned before pressing his lips together. He wasn’t brave enough to stand up and do something, but he kept his gaze on you; intense and warm, hoping you’d get to see it. You started searching the classroom for one face that wasn’t laughing at you, and you found Tendou’s intense glare.

He wasn’t glaring at you, and you had no idea how you came to know that. Gulping, you took a shaky breath before licking your lips.

“My name is (l/n) (y/n)...” Your voice broke in the end, but when Tendou smiled at you, your heart skipped a beat.

It was quite obvious now that you were asked to sit beside Tendou, because that was the only seat that was empty. You weren’t crying when you reached your seat, but you were still very sad. You had moved from Osaka to Miyagi; your father had a job that made him move quite often, which left you devoid of a chance for a normal school life. You made friends easily, but if you kept moving the way you were, it was hard to stick to any of them. You were a mess when you arrived, and you were still a mess now. 

“Are you okay?” The red-haired boy asked you.

His hair was a bowl cut and his eyes were rather large, and he had a strange face that made you want to smile more at him, because that strange face had a very addictive smile. You sniffed before shaking your head.

“My name is Tendou...” He avoided telling you his first name before he looked away.

You tilted your head before wanting to ask him about it, but you chose not to. You instead answered his question first.

“I moved here from Osaka...” 

Tendou made an ‘o’ with his mouth before asking you, “Did you have friends there?”

You paused a bit before thinking and then shaking your head. Tendou grinned before telling you something that inevitably changed your final year there.

“Then why be sad? You can make friends here!”

And you did. 

* * *

After just a week, Tendou and you were as thick as thieves. You’d gotten quite comfortable with everyone in just that week, and it was rather easy. Everyone seemed to dislike Tendou, and comfort didn’t always mean you were happy. You were comfortable telling Tendou’s bullies off, and they could do nothing about you in hindsight. 

“Tendou-kun?”

The two of you were currently on his house’s terrace, building a house of cards. Since Tendou lived only a few houses away from you, you often went over with the excuse of doing homework and spent hours just watching anime or playing. Sometimes, he’d ask you to play volleyball with him, just to spite you for fun, considering how bad you were with handling a volleyball.

“What?”

“Why won’t you tell me your first name? You know mine.”

His eyes widened. Of course, he did know yours. But, if you knew his, you’d make fun of him too. You noticed how hesitant he looked and that confused you, and as much as you wanted to comfort him, you didn’t even know what about his first name was bothering him.

“Is it funny?”

He shook his head.

“Is it... weird?”

He paused, looking down at the ground. The silence that grew between you felt almost like a burden, and you inched closer to where he sat across from you. You ignored the house of cards, you knew you could always build one again later. Right now, nothing mattered more to you than Tendou’s first name.

“It’s...” He took a deep breath, “...Satori.”

He immediately shut his eyes and waited for you to laugh. He expected you to laugh first before pointing your finger at him and telling him off; he waited for mean words to slip past your lips and to have you call him a monster. But when no sound came, Tendou opened his eyes and slowly, he dared to meet yours.

You were wide eyed, almost as if you had learned something amazing. Your gaze was simultaneously both invasive and immersive, and Tendou felt strangely vulnerable under its intensity. Your pupils were glittering, and your lips were forming a very wide grin, and it felt as if you were peering through the keyhole of his heart.

“(l/n)?”

“Satori-kun!” You exclaimed, eyes still sparkling. “I love your name!”

Suddenly, Tendou felt a surge of energy upon catching your words—a joyful thrill that settled in his stomach, arced up through his lungs and flashed into a spontaneous smile on his face—which scrambled his ungrounded circuits and tempted him to chase that very feeling constantly. When you spotted Tendou grinning, and grinned back, giggling at how happy he looked.

“Satori-kun has such a nice name,” You said, in awe, and he merely just watched you, his heart ricocheting like crazy, “And I’m stuck with (y/n).” You ended with a pout.

Tendou gasped before standing up, almost ready to fight, “(y/n) is such a lovely name! I’ll fight you if you say it’s bad!”

You looked up at him with wide eyes and giggled some more, “Satori-kun, you’ll fight me if I say my name is bad?”

“Yeah, because I don’t think it’s bad.”

“Because you’re a sweet person, Satori-kun.” You whined.

“No,” Satori said, “It’s because I’m being honest.”

Perhaps, he had learned to love his name more because you were so proud of it. He happily placed his happiness inside the palm of your hands, entrusting you with it; he trusted you with his life, the boy who had seen no light from an external source, and had found it in you—a girl he had seen crying her heart out the first time he met you. For some reason, your good nature stirred his own inside of him, which intended to change him. It brought out a side in him he never knew he had, and for that, he was grateful.

That entire year with you, Tendou knew he liked you. It was the strangest thing because you were the one to tell him, and it was such a matter-of-fact statement that it felt as if there wasn’t anything unnatural about it. The two of you were once again on Tendou’s house’s roof, trying to finish up homework because the walls inside the room bored the both of you.

“Ne, Satori-kun?” You were always the first one to get distracted.

“Hm?”

“You’re my boyfriend, right?”

His eyes widened at your blatant statement and he turned to you as if you were mental. 

“What?! Since when?”

You pouted, “What do you mean since when?”

Satori leaned back, “Well, you never told me you liked me.”

“Is that how it’s supposed to go?”

Satori nodded, “Someone confesses first and then they go out on dates and stuff.”

You gestured to the both of you and said, “Isn’t this like a date?”

Satori hummed before tapping his chin like he was deep in thought, “I guess. But, you still didn’t confess to me.”

“Hah!? Why should I confess to you?”

He scoffed, “Because you’re the one calling me your boyfriend.”

“Does that mean,” You tilted your head before your eyes met his, “You don’t want me as your girlfriend?”

Suddenly, Tendou felt an emotion he hadn’t felt in years; in fact, Tendou felt something so blatantly new that it shook him. That he might have forgotten about completely if his emotional playlist hadn’t been left on shuffle—a feeling whose opening riff tugs on all his other neurons like a dog on a leash waiting for him to open the door.

He shook his head, “Girlfriend sounds lame,” You froze at his words, “You’re like my wife, aren’t you?”

“Ehhh?” You laughed before throwing an eraser at him, earning a chuckle from him in response.

But, in your laughter he saw acceptance, and in his chuckles you saw candid seriousness. The sound of cicadas rang in both of your ears, hunger rumbled in your stomachs, but your hearts were full. It was a blissful feeling.

* * *

Blissful feelings don’t last, or that’s what Tendou told himself as he entered Junior High without you.

It had been close to six months since you had moved out of Miyagi, back to Osaka. For some strange reason, your father stayed behind; you moved, your mother moved, and your grandmother who was staying with you had moved as well. Since you weren’t close with anyone else in class, there wasn’t anyone Tendou could ask, and his parents didn’t say anything either. He missed you, no, he ached for you, but you weren’t there. 

You could have exchanged emails, but since Tendou and you were always together and due to the fact that you were not allowed phones yet, you never had the chance to. He recalled his father once telling him that some friendships were only supposed to last during childhood, and while he didn’t want that to be true with you, he was seriously starting to doubt everything at this point. Missing someone was easy if only they hadn’t lived in such close proximity; everything Tendou did reminded him of you, everything lived, breathed, and moved _you_ in essence, and unlike what they told him about missing someone and feeling sad, Tendou only missed you and felt angry.

At least he had volleyball, right? Junior High wasn’t as bad because Tendou had learned the art of making others uncomfortable about him. If they were scared of him, if they called him a monster, then so be it. He’d behave exactly how they expected he would—but he’d be better. Tendou had discovered what he liked, what he disliked, and he strove for it; it was unbelievable how much you had influenced his thinking.

_You’re a sweet person, Satori-kun._

_I love your name, Satori-kun!_

Ah, it had been four years now and he still missed you. Entering High School seemed easier, and he was now expecting people to walk over and make fun of his name, just so that he’d join in. _Oh? You want to see what else this monster can do?_ He’d block every single volleyball coming his way, and the look that was left behind on his opponent’s face was everything. It was because he wouldn’t let their words bring him down, it was because he was much, much more.

Only, the bullies outside the court of volleyball stopped affecting him now as well since you had given him the approval he had been longing for. You may have left Miyagi, but your essence stayed behind with him, he remembered you; and you had liked him just as much as he liked you.

Whether he gave it credit or not, Tendou knew that this was what had shaped his ability to be proud of his own prowess. You had given him what he needed right when he needed it, and his growth had only been imminent. For that, he would always be grateful; despite the pain you had caused after you left.

“Wakatoshi-kun!” Tendou exclaimed, bending down to his side just to spot any change in expression on his rather stoic friend.

Ushijima turned to the middle blocker and blinked, wondering what Satori had to say. Sometimes, the setter was certain that a few things Tendou tended to say were rather unimportant. 

“Have you ever considered missing practice?”

“Why would I miss practice?”

Satori shrugged, “Just because.”

“That’s not an excuse at all, Tendou-kun.”

Satori sighed; having a friend like Wakatoshi was amazing in almost several ways, but he was not _you_. Tendou sat across Wakatoshi in his dorm room and smiled to himself as the stoic friend read his latest JUMP comic. Tendou leaned back and fell against his bed, thinking of you.

_“Why don’t you find my name weird?”_

_You looked at him like he had said the most dumbest thing you had ever heard. Tendou almost looked hurt with the look you had given him._

_“Satori-kun,” You grabbed both of his hands in yours and stared him in the eye, “I think you’re amazing!”_

_Tendou remembered blushing at how blatant you were; he admired that about you. You were just... honest. Sweet. Pure._

_“Amazing?” He knew what he was doing. He wanted you to say nice things. He never wanted you to stop._

_And while he believed you didn’t know he was just fishing for compliments, you knew. And goodness, you’d give this boy compliments any time of the day. Your smile grew and you nodded._

_“Just imagine the look on people’s faces as you prove them wrong about you,” He could feel the warmth in your fingers. “Satori-kun, I look at you and all I can feel is how much better I can be overall as a person and as anyone I want to be! You make me want to be better!”_

Tendou let out a sigh, alerting Wakatoshi. 

“Is something wrong?”

He shook his head, “Just reminiscing, Wakatoshi-kun.”

Wakatoshi appeared like he understood what his roommate was saying, but he was kind enough not to pry. After all, people tended to need an extension of their personal space as often as the requirement to pause and breathe in the middle of practice. It was just as essential. 

Tendou missed you for the entirety of his Junior High, and first two years of High School. He had imagined you being there with him, where he could finally understand his feelings for you and ask you out proper; but that chance was stolen. Of course, he’d had crushes before but none of the girls compared to the image he had of you. Of how you would be if you were still around; how your hair would look, how tall you’d be.

But one thing Tendou couldn’t forget was your smile.

* * *

Sometimes, things got a bit too much for Tendou Satori.

It wasn’t always that Tendou felt sleepy during the first period of class. But, because practice held on for too long in the morning, and the fact that he had woken up a bit late and had to rush to practice meant that he had to keep his eyes peeled open forcefully. 

“Class,” The teacher announced as soon as he walked in. “We have a new student today!”

A new student in the third and final year? That too in Shiratorizawa? The student must be a nerd or something. Tendou’s eyes were heavier than boulders right then, but if he had kept them open for just a few seconds, he would have had the air knocked right out of him. 

But, you did it for him instead.

“Hello, everyone!” Tendou’s eyes were closed at this point, “My name is (l/n) (y/n). It’s nice to meet you all!”

Boulders? They were feathers. Tendou looked up and spotted you—you! You, in all your splendour, bowing and smiling; and when your gaze met his, he saw the glitter in them just like he had seen back when you told him you liked his name. His heart skipped a beat, and he could swear that his fingers were sweating. There was no way. You could not be here.

Immediately, he slapped himself on both cheeks, alerting the entire class. The teacher himself looked perplexed, and you just stood there, smiling, biting your lip so you don’t break out laughing.

You had almost forgotten how important Tendou was to you, until you saw him right then, slapping himself for not being able to believe you were in his classroom. Unfortunately, unlike last time, the only empty bench was somewhere in the front, away from where Tendou was. You sat down, arranging your things down and turned to spot him, his eyes fixed on your form. You offered him a kind smile, but seeing no smile from him worried you. Sure, he was shocked, but he had to feel something, right?

Was he mad that you had left without saying a word? That would make sense considering how close you two were. You turned away, feeling the gloom stick to your eyelashes, something Satori caught in a blink of an eye.

After class, you walk over to him, unable to hold yourself back. Tendou stood up, towering over you—your eyes were wide at how tall he was now. He smiled at your reaction before asking if you were willing to step out for a bit. You nodded, quietly following him; the air around the both of you was comforting, but at the same time, it was quiet, and it was the sort of quietness that had never existed between the two of you before. It made you feel tense.

“How... How are you?”

He wondered if you’d still call him by his first name. It had been close to five years now. 

“Taller, (l/n)-chan!”

It felt like he had slapped you by calling your last name. Your smile doesn’t fade. 

“Definitely a lot taller than I expected, Satori-kun,” You pressed, looking up at him hesitantly; you noticed his eyes widen just a bit before pressing his lips together.

He was holding back. There were clearly many things he wanted to ask, but he wasn’t. You wanted him to. 

“I should apologize—”

“Why?”

“Eh?” You look up at him, turning away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. 

Your heart broke at how detached he was right then; but you deserved how he was being right then. You had left him, without offering any explanation or even a goodbye. Your eyes softened at the thought of leaving Satori alone especially when he had trusted you so much. But, just thinking of him was also taking away the fact that moving away had hurt you too.

“Mother and father got a divorce,” You said, looking at him, “I moved with mother and grandma. Back to Osaka.”

He had expected that was what had happened as he grew older. But when you confirmed it, there was a tug in his heart.

“You didn’t tell me...” 

“I couldn’t. It was all too sudden. They separated before the divorce and I... I couldn’t face you,” 

He was confused. He looked at you, waiting for you to explain.

“I didn’t want to make you sad. I know I made you feel worse by leaving without saying anything, but to come to you and say ‘Hey, I’m moving away again’ right after we... right after we had...” 

_Right after we’d joked about being married._

Tendou could quite practically hear your thoughts. In your own way, you were trying to protect his feelings and while that was noble of you, it was also a tad bit selfish. 

“I’m truly very sorry, Satori—”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, (l/n)-chan,” Tendou said so kindly that it sent shivers down your spine, “It’s all good now.”

You looked at him expectantly, something eating away at your heart. Please, you asked, but you didn’t know for what. Don’t, you begged but you didn’t know why. Tendou waved at you before walking back to class, leaving you there with wide eyes.

You opened your mouth to say something, but you closed your lips together and let out a breath. 

* * *

As days passed, Tendou noticed how you made friends with others rather easily. You were easy-going, and he also discovered that you didn’t stop speaking to him. You’d greet him whenever you saw him, and he’d catch you turning back and looking at him whenever something funny happened in class.

His heart ached the entire time, however. He wondered if it was possible to like someone for that long, especially when things were confusing as they were right then? Surely, your reason was more than valid and after sleeping on it for a few days, Satori had realized that as a child, there was no possible way for you to have thought ahead and pictured how leaving without a word could have hurt him more. You were trying in your own way, and that itself should have been good enough.

And it was, clearly it was, if Satori could tell himself that much.

But, why was he still pushing you away? It was evident that you didn’t want to be pushed away, judging from how you kept speaking to him; how you tried to inch closer and closer to him each day; how warm your smile was every single day toward him. 

He had missed you so much and now he was ruining it by being confused for all the wrong reasons.

It was close to 9 p.m., right before the curfew hit Shiratorizawa dorms. Practice had ended long ago, Wakatoshi was reading a book and Tendou was lying on his bed as usual. 

_I love your name, Satori-kun!_

_Definitely a lot taller than I expected, Satori-kun._

“I’m still Satori to her...” Tendou said, staring at the ceiling.

“To who?”

Tendou’s eyes widened before he turned to Ushijima, who was eagerly looking at Satori as if he had said something of significance. Did he think I started a conversation with him? Ah, no.

“You need more friends, Wakatoshi-kun.”

“Is there a reason why you say so?”

“Just...” Satori rubbed his face, “I don’t know, don’t you get bored?”

“It’s hard to get bored when I’m dorming with someone like you, Tendou-kun.” 

Tendou looked at Wakatoshi and blinked, “Eh?”

“You are constantly catching up. That makes me want to be better.”

Tendou’s eyes shot up like saucers. Hearing him say those words reminded him of a particular someone. 

_Satori-kun, I look at you and all I can feel is how much better I can be overall as a person and as anyone I want to be! You make me want to be better!_

Ah, shit.

Sitting up quickly, and almost alerting Wakatoshi, Tendou stood up from the bed and grabbed his jacket. Ushijima merely watched the redhead put on his jackets and outdoor shoes before rushing to head out. It was almost past curfew, but that didn’t matter to him, apparently.

“She’s here, Wakatoshi-kun!” Tendou exclaimed as if sudden realization dawned on him. “She’s here, she’s actually here.”

“Who’s here?”

“My life just returned to me, Wakatoshi-kun. I’m wasting time by not claiming it, you see.”

Again, Wakatoshi was used to it by now; nodding at whatever Tendou tended to say. Sometimes, the redhead made no sense to him, but right then, watching how Satori rushed out made him eager to understand. Perhaps, it was something important after all. And matters of prime importance must always be tended to.

Tendou knew heading to the girls' dorm would require some skill at not being caught. He knew a way to sneak to the back, but he had to alert you somehow. Spotting a random girl who was heading to the dorm, Tendou threw a small pebble at her before alerting her attention. She walked over to him with fearful eyes, wondering what a boy was doing here at this time.

“If someone sees you—”

“I’m trying to confess to the love of my life. Can you please ask (l/n) (y/n) to come out? She’s a third-year—”

For some reason, the girl just nodded and rushed inside, cooing. Satori knew he had to wait, but the wait was excruciating. His heart was beating loudly in his chest, and a large grin settled on his lips. After what felt like an hour (but only 10 minutes) later, you showed up, swearing sweats and a casual tank top. Your face was flushed and you looked like you ran.

“I never really asked you out back then, did I, (y/n)-chan?”

You teared up at what he called you and chuckled, “Is that how it’s supposed to go?”

Recreating an old conversation from your past was sweet, but Tendou didn’t want that conversation. He walked over to you, inches away from you, and held your hands. Ah, he thought, feeling right at home.

“I thought you were mad at me.” You whispered, looking at your connected hands.

Satori shook his head, “Never mad at you. It’s almost impossible to be mad at someone like you. You quite practically ran inside my head for five years.”

You looked up at him before letting out a chuckle. Reaching over to him, you pressed your lips against his before he pulled you closer to him by pressing a hand to your lower back. He had kissed a girl before, but she had not been you. The feeling this gave him was much, much more significant.

A second later, he pulls away and places his forehead against yours. His hands were on either of your cheeks and he just breathed.

“I’m so grateful to you,” Satori said, eyes closed, “You’ve been so nice to me.”

“Says the boy that made me smile while I was crying.”

A short few seconds of silence passed, and Satori realized that his new favorite thing was hugging you when the two of you were supposed to be in your dorms.

“Ne, (y/n)-chan?”

“Hm?”

“You’re my girlfriend, right?”

The resemblance to your old conversation made you smile, but this was not that time. This was something else.

“Yeah,” You tightened your grip around his waist, “Yeah, I guess I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love this boy so much

**Author's Note:**

> just posting my stuff from tumblr, ya'll.


End file.
